In Remembrance of My Grandmother
She barely smiled
but when she did
it was like she smiled
for all of us, all at once
She sequestered herself
away from the world outside
her humble home
soon after my grandfather died
I never met him
but she made him come alive to me
with stories of his exquisite chivalry
His portrait sat on the table
beside where Grandma sat
to fold the laundry and fine linen
Each fold she made
was purposeful
and perfectly aligned
her wrinkled hands
caressed the fabric
with great tenderness
a pillow case could not
possibly appreciate
I felt her love
one day
when she gently brushed
my hair for the first time
(I could remember)
and wrapped it in a bun.
She told extraordinary stories
about her childhood, my grandfather
and the things that according to her
every girl should know
about life in general.
She smoked cigars
which I found unreal
but she did it with the grace
of a queen.
What I remember most
is her love for her pets
although not the traditional
dog or cat.
She raised chickens and hens, and roosters
gave them all names at that
Had short conversations with them every day
about the weather and what was on her mind
Then on any given day
at any given time
when she felt they were fat enough
she’d decide
to cook one of them
for us to dine.
As I remember the many conversations I had
with my beloved grandmother
we all called Mita
and do not ask me why
I think about
the things that my grand children
will remember about me after I have died.
I hope Mita knows how
much she influenced
me as a storyteller and poet.
I could almost see her smile.
and once again it warmed my heart
because when she smiled
it was like she smiled for all of us.
*My grandmother passed away 37 years ago.
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What a beautiful post!
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