Have you seen walking around town
a man who looks lost and forlorn?
He is in search of a woman he thought he knew
except she may have told him one little fib.
You see the man is my husband and for years
he believed my birthday was April 29, 1911.
But in fact…
I was really born in 1910.
I had no other choice but to lie to him.
He would never marry an older woman
and I knew I was eight months older than he.
This poem is based off the true story of my grandparents courtship. They did meet in grade school and even back in the dark ages 😉 teachers would announce birthdays. Well my grandma knew my grandfather’s birthday was in December so when her birthday came around in April she told him she was born in 1911. A lie that lasted, I’ve been told, for decades. It wasn’t until my grandfather went down to the social security office (to set up retirement payments?) and he learned her true age, because they did not have a record for an Estelle Tiger born in 1911 but they did have one for the same name and birthday but in 1910.
I wrote this poem yesterday a combination of the #NaPoWriMo and @piper_center prompts. It is a funny monologue about my grandparents’ 50th anniversary portrait – not exactly what the photo sees looking outward more like what was occurring inward.