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Tuesday, January 24, 2023

Grandma, Passing Through

Floss and Wilf Marr

She was larger than life,
when I was four:
twinkling eyes, a sense of humor,
lots of cackles.
She and Big Boy, the cat,
had a running game over
whether or not he'd make it
out the screen door
before she let it fly.
He would calculate the distance warily:
the lovely scent of the outdoors,
the pressure on his bladder,
but Her, standing holding the door
open invitingly.
Would he make it through this time?
Was it worth it?
How badly did he really
need to pee?
She enjoyed this game
much more than the cat did.

In the morning I'd wake to the slap
of water hitting the vines
on the side of the house,
as Grandma cooled things down
against the heat of the day.
Her yard was always abloom:
sweet pea and mint,
forsythia and mimosa,
and roses, twining the arched trellis
over the front gate,
where I'd hang, late afternoons,
swinging back and forth,
waiting for my parents
to pick me up
after work.

Late morning, as it was getting hot,
she'd lower the awnings
like sleepy eyelids
over the two front windows.

At naptime, she'd lie down beside me,
her warm, comforting, womanly body
lulling me off to sleep in safety.
No screams or crashes ever woke me
from sleep at grandma's house.

Her kitchen clock ticked
loudly and peacefully
on the kitchen shelf.
I could hear it in the back room,
where we'd sit, listening to
the crack and rumble
of the thunderstorms
Grandma loved in summer,
waiting for the metallic scent
just before the rains
hit the parched earth.

We "watched the fairies"
dancing in the fireplace
on quiet winter afternoons.

She was all I knew of stability.
She showed me, by living it,
that life could be normal, routine,
safe, peaceful.
I searched for a life like hers
through my growing years,
until I claimed solitude,
and found it.

She could be stern
I was more afraid of her displeasure
than I was of God's.
She said she had "magic glasses,"
that she could see me when I was at home,
and I believed.

She told me of a perfect little girl called Vivian,
who had wonderful manners
and never did one thing wrong.
"Vivian would never do that!"
All us grandkids hated Vivian.

She chortled with delight,
walking home from afternoon tea,
at how I'd said "Haaaaaah, Miss Hicks?"
when I didnt understand her question.

"Haaaaaaaah, Miss Hicks???"
my grandma teased,
fairly chomping with pleasure,
while I blushed and bridled.

When my Grandma was old,
in extended care,
I repaid her for all the hours
she gave to me as a child.
"I'm still here,"
she'd say disgustedly,
as I popped my head
around the door.
"I'm just
too damned healthy!"

We'd sit under the trees,
or at the window
watching the sunset.

I sat with her as she lay dying,
that long week.
Bending over, I whispered into her ear,
"Thanks for all the love, Grandma"
and watched a single tear
run silently down her cheek.

At the funeral, we played her favorite
"Galway Bay" at the end,
and my mom broke down.
On the bus going home,
I was thinking of Grandma
and all the years,
when the notes of Galway Bay
tinkled through my brain,
from left to right, and away.
I wasn't thinking of the tune;
it just arrived, in one side
and out the other.
Instantly, I said, "Hi Grandma,
I love you,"
as the notes exited my brain,
for I knew that it was Grandma
passing through.

for Sarah at dVerse, where the topic is grandmothers. Mine meant the world to me. She actually saved my life when I was a child, by showing me there was another life than the one I was living.

24 comments:

  1. What a beautiful bittersweet story Sherry, about a woman who loomed large in life. She sounds like a wonderful person, and quite a character…. 😉 Great write my friend. ✌🏼❣️

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  2. A lovely tribute to your grandmother. I had to smile at the magic glasses! You know what? I believe her. Some people have the ability to see more than meets the eye. You are lucky to have these memories. Lovely read, thanks for sharing.

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  4. This is the most beautiful and important poem I have experienced in some time. I'm very grateful for you for sharing it

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  5. This poem is something far, far beyond beautiful. I'm very touched.

    ~David
    SkepticsKaddish.com

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  6. What a special relationship. I love the safety of that nap time. I love the fact that she was firm, too. I'm glad you got to pay back all that care.

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  7. An epic tribute to a special grandma, Sherry. I love the ‘twinkling eyes, a sense of humor, lots of cackles’, familiar grandma traits, and the lines about Big Boy the cat. I could smell the garden, hear the clock (my nan had a similar one) and, what a coincidence, I used to swing on the gate, waiting for my granddad to come home for his midday meal! And we had ;fairies’ in the fireplace too!

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  8. Thank you for sharing your grandmother with all of us. This is such a full, loving tribute. I can tell how much she meant to you. ❤️

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  9. Once again you have written a poem that goes straight to my heart Sherry. Your grandmother was a real character! I love your stories of her and of her funeral. I agree, that tune in your head was her saying goodbye.

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  10. Wonderful Sherry. The emotion on both sides shines through. All those little things that make a life, and give it meaning.

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  11. Wow..a heartfelt tribute.. beautiful!

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  12. Sherry, this is so touching. I've noticed that so many of the poems for this prompt have been long, reminiscences, as if a short poem was nowhere near enough. Yours is a tribute, a painting of someone you loved very much.

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  13. Beautiful composition, and sentiment! I've been thinking about my Grandmother a lot lately; so your piece resonates.

    Thanks for this, and your encouragement on my blog.

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  14. O Sherry, aren't grandmothers sooo very wonderful. When they're living and loving and almost as wonderful as they pass through in our memories, we will love them forever. Thank you for sharing yours, a wonderful part of your life she was.
    ..

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  15. I think I got to know your grandmother a little bit through your words, and also how loved you were by a very special woman. Beautifully written, Sherry.

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  16. I do love all the aspect of this poem, and it feels that your grandmother was sometimes both mother and granny at the same time. I smiled at that perfect "vivian" I am glad such a perfect kid never existed.

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  17. Your grandmother sounds like a wonderful human being. I love the way you write about her with such strong and loving feelings. I am glad you had her in your life.

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  18. Aww, what a wonderful remembrance story. This was a pleasure to read. Thanks so much. I love it. xoxo Bless your wise grandma.

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  19. How beautiful. Your grandmother sounds wonderful. I'm glad you had such a strong woman in your life when you life at home was difficult. I like the way you describe the strength you still find her in love all these years later. Suzanne - Mapping Uncertainty

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  20. such a lovely sweet tribute Sherry.. and those last lines - beautiful...

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  21. I love all of the details in this poem - the love and kindness you were given by her in your childhood was repaid when she needed that same kind of presence. A wonderful, loving relationship!

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  22. What a beautiful, loving tribute, Sherry! I loved the game with the cat, and those magic glasses, that I know I would have believed true.

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  23. Don't think my comment posted?
    This is a beautiful, loving tribute, Sherry!
    I love the cat game, and those magic glasses which I know I would have believed in.

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