Your Comfort Place

I've seen your first steps and the way you waddled.

I remember your new dog.
                        Bucky, was it?
 Your first bus ride.

Yellow and black, taking you away.

I was there when you broke your arm climbing on me.

That day you got your first friend.

You started to bring more people to play on me.
                                         Suddenly, you stopped though.
             Playing on me that is.
 I foresaw your first kiss when you started hanging out with that girl.

She was sweet, really.

You were very nice to her,
                                           and she loved you for it.
Those sobs still haunt me, the day that Bucky died.

You left me for a while.
                              Until you came back, to sit underneath me.
I listened while you ranted about college and how stressful it was.

My favorite memory was that time you proposed.

She was very lovely.
                                    Both of you were childhood friends.
Since that moment, you rarely came again.

Once in a while, you would take your darling children to visit me.

They grew older and taller every time they came to see me.

You kept on growing too;
                                      Older, plumper, and happier. 
 Every time I saw you, a few more gray hairs layed atop your head.

Your children's children saw me too.

The visits you treated me with became less and less until it stopped.

The saddest thing, to me, was seeing your children and relatives weep over your death.

One of the most amazing parts of my life was watching  you grow up.

Thank you, for choosing me to be your comfort place.