A poem Gus Bartlet would have written for a class post White House. I'm not sure how old he would be based on the time frame based on the poem but it doewsn't really matter.
Sometimes Grandma Cries
Sometimes late at night
When grandpa closes his eyes
Sometimes grandma cries
The White House is history
And so is the presidency
No longer the First Lady
She should be happy
But sometimes grandma cries
Grandpa uses a cane
And it should be plain
To see
He's not the man he used to be
But at least he's free
Hushed whispers I hear
Their tones hushed in fear
Grandpa got lost
Confused
Disoriented
Grandma tells my mom
Sometimes the man she knew
Is gone
Sometimes grandma cries
She sneaks away and hides
I see in grandpa's eyes
He knows why grandma cries
Sometimes grandpa cries.
One time late at night
Mom flips on the light
Get up, get dressed"
I pull on jeans
I don't know what this means
Now we're at the hospital
To get here so fast
That's impossible
"Relapse, progressive, unconscious..."
How is this possible?
In a sterile hall we run
Through windows sets the sun
Grandma steps into the hall
Her face is red
Her eyes are wide
"he's died..."
Her knees buckle.
Mom and aunt Ellie are there
And guide her to a chair
Tears slide down their cheeks
Grandma sobs uncontrollably
That night grandpa died
That night grandma cried
Sometimes late at night
In the next room
Sometimes grandma cries
And tears gather in my eyes.