Dear Grandmother

​“for the all years i’ve known you,

you were always pale and wrinkled

with a hunched back

and thick brown glasses

white hair pulled back in a messy bun

a walking stick in one hand

the other holding mine.

the same calloused hands

they’ve seen it all,

you’ve been a part of it all 

from my one toothed smiles to my never ending tears

from my first steps to my first day of school

i wish you were there for my last one too.

your eyes always twinkled in recognition

whenever you saw my face

a toothless smile painted on your lips.

i still remember,

when you recounted stories

stories of destruction; stories of desolation

your journeys and your struggles

from blissful, beautiful farms

to war painted streets

with a crying baby cradled to your chest.

i wish,

i wish i could hear you tell them one last time

and in the end

when you finished with a dramatic flair

i’d clap and hold your hand

and tell you how much those stories mean to me

how they’re now carved into my very bones

and flow in my veins.

i’ll remember you today, tomorrow and even the day after that

and the day i’d recite the same stories to my children.

i’ll remember you,

i’ll remember your pale face and white hair

and that toothless smile,

that’s how i’ll remember you forever.”

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20 thoughts on “Dear Grandmother

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