Grandmother
Unedited stream of consciousness poem remembering one of the greatest.
I miss my grandmother.
On winter days. On movie nights. On days when all I want to wear are pyjamas.
I miss my grandmother.
On sunny days. On boat rides. On days the waves hit the shore with a gentle splash.
I miss her when I hear bird calls, or choral music. I miss her every time my son wants to play. I miss her when he teaches me a lesson and I nod and say ‘okay’.
I miss her in the mornings, when the stairs creak as I tiptoe into the kitchen. I expect to see a grapefruit or cereal bowl set at the table.
I miss her when I think of simpler days, how by noon we’d say it’s time to get dressed. We’d venture off in her Oldsmobile to the store or post office.
The same roads I took with her are the same ones there today. The deer we’d watch in the forest, galloping away.
I miss my grandmother.
I miss her when I look at her chair, and think of how it traveled so far to this day.
I miss my grandmother.
I miss her voice, her smile, her ultra-soft hugs, and the way she’d watch me walk to my car after we’ve said our goodbyes.
I miss cards and gossip, afternoon naps, and bedtime when she’d let me watch her take out her false teeth.
I miss how she scolded me for being an adult, forgetting temporarily the child I am not.
I miss hearing about her life, stories from her past she’d love to tell. I miss the way she’d chuckle about her upbringing or her children raising hell.
I miss the way she’d narrow her eyebrows when recalling something as not right.
I miss my grandmother.
I miss her every day.
I know she’s with me and carries me through, especially today.