Grandmother —
Title, position, duties.
I never knew you
wanted to travel,
went overseas once.
A missionary trip
you longed to make, and
you did. I never knew
this small truth of courage
until your funeral.
How did you carry that
cold-heavy weight
of us on your shoulders
all those years?
Those dark-strong hours,
spent taking care of everyone
as we grew into non-children.
Solicitude, sympathy, tolerance.
Love always the deepest river,
lessons of giving-over everything
almost; and then
there was your God,
some stories you’d written,
a few trips taken —
the talented individual you were,
but all we ever knew
to hold onto
was a name, a presence,
the designation —
Grandma, Momma, Nellie – Love.
~February 2012
Related articles
- 18th Century Poetry – My Handsome Nell by Robert Burns (hiddendirk.com)
- Momma….can you hear me…( thoughts to departed Mother) (greatpoetrymhf.wordpress.com)
- Charles Dickens’ 200th Birthday Celebrated in Philadelphia (inquisitr.com)
- A Tale Of Two Centuries: Charles Dickens Turns 200 (npr.org)
- Love never fails. (mylifeasawizard.wordpress.com)
- The Crow (Poem) (lizawrites.wordpress.com)
- Peace Doves Return to Pope (deaconjohn1987.wordpress.com)
- Turtle-dove (wordsleftover.wordpress.com)