My grandfathers lived on the opposite sides of our hometown

one by the river, one on a curving hill.

Politically, they lived further still.

On Saturday mornings, I scrambled eggs with one.

On Sunday afternoons, I listened to Big Bands with the other.

One completed crossword puzzles with a blue pen.

The other read the paper from cover to cover.

One woke us on Christmas mornings at 5:00 AM.

The other requested our Christmas wish lists be given to him.

Both praised my report cards, showed up for all my birthdays,

dressed up for my high school graduation and posed for photos after;

and when my younger grandfather died first, my older grandfather cried.

Somehow they bridged a great divide.