Nine years have come and gone,
Still, we struggle and push on.
First, it was language we had to overcome,
When English was not your native tongue.
And then there was culture, so broad and vast.
We had to bridge the Pacific step by step to last.
I taught you how to drive and read a map.
You taught me patience and to take a nap.
My decline was obvious; yours so entwined.
So full of doubt, mine more combined.
And so we struggle, to reach that distant goal.
The Grail of retirement, to save our soul.
When we’ll have time to do what we want
And money to spend on whatever we've not.
Two steps forward, three steps back.
We have no trouble getting what we lack.
We'll just work harder, longer for sure,
Nine years, times nine and more.
Copyright 2001 © Ronald W. Hull