The pages of history are marked with the tales of great (and not so great) men and women.
These folks, immortalized in the written word, briefly make their ways into our lives when our eyes happen to glance across the pages.
They seem so distant these strangers whom we encounter only through the stories penned by the author.
Artificial memories are these, made of little more than ink and paper.
In stark contrast are the unwritten tales of true greatness...
Passed down by word of mouth from those fortunate enough to be touched by these gentle souls.
Though shared by few, these are the memories that speak loudest of all.
When blessed with such gifts, the recipient's life is enriched in a way unsuspected.
I now have memories of a man I never knew.
Stories recounted by friends and family whose footprints were once found side by side with his.
Each story slipping between teeth and over lips effortlessly posed in a smile
A smile shared first with the tellers eyes, and then with my own.
These tales, dear friend, I dare not share not having earned the right
My footprints have only tread where mere echoes of his remain
But long will they echo throughout the mountains, flats, and canyons
Surrounding the places he happily called home.
If only we had had the good fortune to meet you Gerry
Like many were so graced before us
You left your mark not on the pages of history
But in the hearts of the friends and family of the Grapevine.
These folks, immortalized in the written word, briefly make their ways into our lives when our eyes happen to glance across the pages.
They seem so distant these strangers whom we encounter only through the stories penned by the author.
Artificial memories are these, made of little more than ink and paper.
In stark contrast are the unwritten tales of true greatness...
Passed down by word of mouth from those fortunate enough to be touched by these gentle souls.
Though shared by few, these are the memories that speak loudest of all.
When blessed with such gifts, the recipient's life is enriched in a way unsuspected.
I now have memories of a man I never knew.
Stories recounted by friends and family whose footprints were once found side by side with his.
Each story slipping between teeth and over lips effortlessly posed in a smile
A smile shared first with the tellers eyes, and then with my own.
These tales, dear friend, I dare not share not having earned the right
My footprints have only tread where mere echoes of his remain
But long will they echo throughout the mountains, flats, and canyons
Surrounding the places he happily called home.
If only we had had the good fortune to meet you Gerry
Like many were so graced before us
You left your mark not on the pages of history
But in the hearts of the friends and family of the Grapevine.