(free-verse monologue)

His name was Napoleon - what kind of name is that?
In our family with French background, it’s a proud name.
Bonaparte was my grandfather’s hero,
so, he named a son Napoleon.
Everybody who knew him, though, called him “Nip.”
He was my Uncle Nip.

Nip served in the Navy during WW I, but he didn’t stay in.
Not everybody ships over, you know.
But he served, and so Uncle Nip was entitled
to care in a VA hospital.
And that’s where I saw him last, just before he died -
In a VA hospital in Rhode Island.

Just look at that pathetic creature in the basket-bed!
Tubes putting things in; tubes taking things out.
Rasping breath heard over the hissing, beeping machines.
Coarse sighs coming from a raw, blistered throat, not loud,
But loud enough
to be heard over the laughter down the hall.

Uncle Nip was spunky -
I’ll bet the toughest son-of-a-bitch on his ship.
Oh, maybe he wasn’t, but I like to think that he was tough.
He was stubborn - and kind, but now he’s pitiful -
NO, he’s still gutsy!
He’s just fighting a different battle, now -
Oh, he’s going to lose this one.
Don’t cry, Aunt Bea - we all lose that final battle.

I have to turn away and let the man -
for he is still that while alive, a man -
Let him fight this one in private, with a little dignity.
( I can’t let him see my tears, anyway.)
His last thoughts are of . . . what?
Hey, it really doesn’t matter!

Shhh - quiet! Look,
he’s hoisted his sea bag and leaving the quarterdeck.

Godspeed, Uncle Nip.
Say “hi” to Napoleon for us.

❀