Under Grumpa's Hat

I remember walking with you that day,
No grand occasion, nothing planned,
Just another stroll along the way,
My hand sometimes resting in your hand.

We talked of weather, bills and such,
You pointed out the birds above the trees,
We never thought we’d treasure those things so much,
Or miss the sound of your familiar pleas.

You stopped to catch your breath a while,
Then joked that getting old was quite a trick,
I laughed and saw your crooked smile,
Never knowing time was moving quick.

I wish I’d known that walk would be our last,
I might have walked a little slower by your side,
Held on longer to each moment as it passed,
And let the ordinary world wait outside.

Because we never know which walk is the last,
Which goodbye is hidden in an ordinary day,
Which little moment will become our past,
Before we even know it slipped away.

So walk with them while you still can,
Take the long way home and leave the hurry behind,
For someday you’ll wish you’d held their hand,
And learned that precious moments rarely announce their time.