MEMORY: Susie Coffman of Derrick City sent us a poem she wrote as a tribute to the late Charles Schultz, creator of Peanuts cartoon and comic strip. He died Feb. 12, 2000.

“I sent it to the family and they even wrote me back a nice note,” Susie said.

Good Grief

“The Doctor is In,” the sign read, so my nickel went into the cup.

“Explain, to me, ‘Good Grief,’” I asked and the good doctor looked up.

There were tears in her eyes as she pondered. She looked like she’d lost her best friend.

“What do you think it means?” she asked. “It’s a heartbreak looking to mend.”

“Good grief, is an oxymoron,” I said. “For how can grief be good?

We lost him overnight, we never thought we would.”

The Sopwith Camel spewed oil and smoke, even the Red Baron cried.

Woodstock’s ice rink melted away, the day that Peanuts died.

“My heart feels empty,” I said, “Even Linus can’t explain it.

The day we lost the Big Guy was a dark day on the planet.”

The doctor smiled and looked around. “Come along with me,” she said.

“Maybe I can help you see, he really isn’t dead.”

“His, was life of giving, joy to all who read.

His spirit lives in all of us.” Or so the good doctor said.

“You stay here,” as she went ahead, disappearing behind a tree.

She came out with a football, and bent down on one knee.

“Go ahead, Charlie Brown, let’s give it one last try.”

Against my better judgment I ran, and kicked it to the sky.

“Good grief,” I said, “I did it!” and I shouted it out loud.

“This one’s for you, Mr. Schulz.” And it disappeared into the clouds.

I looked back at the doctor,

“Thanks, Lucy,” I said with a smile.

“You’re welcome, Charlie Brown,

see grief turns into good memories after a while.”