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His Last Hanukkah
Sam Lippman, a patient for 25 years, died after falling backwards on the first night at age eighty nine.
Permit me please to raise a glass to Sam
He was, in life, an ornery fellow,
One thing that I'm sure was in his plan
He wasn't going to let age make him mellow.
Teeth to the task he never would surrender,
It would take an act of God to stop him driving.
You can leave your canes a'standing in the hallway
Contempt for ailments that's what kept him thriving.
And should a passing thankful-beggar greet him,
In glowing terms for some kind act he'd done,
He'd wave it off and say that it was nothing;
Helping was his way of having fun.
And if there was a product or a service
The price of which was making you dig deeper,
You should take leaf from Sam's good book,
Trust me! he would always get it cheaper.
He was like the lamp that kept on burning,
With optimism meeting come what may.
Doggedly determined he would leave his cane behind
And that's what got him on the final day.
So let me take my turn with each of you
From where I have been waiting on the bench,
I ask you just to stand and toast his memory
“The man we loved - he was a real mensch.”
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"His Last Hanukkah" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 2 Aug. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/73556/his-last-hanukkah>.