In Grandpa's Eyes

In grandpa’s eyes I see the struggles
Of a simple man and all his troubles
I see faint traces of past generations
I see myself
In grandpa’s eyes
Grandpa’s hands were rough and callused
They pounded steel for thirty years
They built the trains for the Illinois central line
The riders were safe
In grandpa’s hands
On an august afternoon
The white socks would play
On a cheap transistor radio
He’d listen to the game
Cicadas all a buzz
About a hundred and ten
In the stifling heat grandpa would hope
But the Sox would just lose again
Grandpa’s clothes smelled like camphor oil
He’d mix a liniment
In case one of us got sick
He’d rub my grandma’s legs
She was in such pain again
I’ll never forget the smell of grandpa’s clothes
Sometimes after dinner we’d drive
Down to Wolf Lake
Grandpa loved the peacefulness of that time of day
There we’d fish for perch
‘til the sun touched down over the oil refineries
In grandpa’s eyes I see the troubles
Of a working man and all his struggles
To raise a family
During those depression years
I shall always find
Strength
In grandpa’s eyes
I shall always find
Strength and hope and love
In grandpa’s eyes