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.



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