*GRANDMA WAITS IN THE GARDEN*
Hi grandpa it's me again!
Your dentures sit in an open glass
Do you remember the tears grandma sang before she passed?
The way she looked into your eyes,
Moments before she said her goodbyes
Grandpa, I found a note from grandma, she doesn't want you to cry.
Hi grandpa, it’s me again!
The rocking chair is old and dusty
Do you remember the way grandma sat me on her lap?
Read many stories before I took a nap
How she enjoyed brushing my hair with her hands
Love the way she rocked me to sleep every night until I grew.
I stored your hearing aid away
Do you remember that special musical box in grandma's drawer?
I opened it last night, to watch the ballerina dance
I wish you could hear the tiny chimes grandma lived in
I hope you don’t mind, I’m keeping grandmothers favorite scarf.
I'm caressing grandma’s picture frame
Do you like the way she looked in that pretty sundress?
Grandpa, I miss the things grandmother did for you
I like the walking stick she handcrafted, the day your needed support
It kept you in balance every time we took long hikes in the woods.
Hello grandpa, it's me again!
Here I sit holding your hand
I have no more tears
Soon you will see grandma
Please tell her hi, and I know you will be there the day I die
Give grandma a kiss, and tell her I miss her
To be called ..
~ Grandma is a Honor ~
I have been blessed with 4 Grandchildren
~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb " He is God's Angel ~
~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~
For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
Time passed another gift to see
we are " Mickes" and Loved
Our Dad held the title in Baseball
~ that's how we roll ~
those children are Grandmas hero's
The Irish they love big and Family is everything
The brothers will protect the beautiful sister
~ as many lads will be calling ~
Every time my Grandson hits a home run
There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand
It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs
~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
either baseball or Art ~ you shall find your gift given
These children have been blessed~
~ a beauty to hard to describe
If you think not ~~ Take a look at the Mom
That girl can stop Traffic
after raising three and still~
"Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "
May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell
it started for me and my grandma always
on those rare but special Saturdays
the grandmother and granddaughter festival of preparations
for Sunday's after-church celebrations
the backing of the best cinnamon-sugar -cake
grandma's and my quality time to bake
we talked and shared our secrets of life
I was even allowed to use her sharpest bread knife
just the two of us throwing remaining pounce
creating our beautiful and beloved floury gowns
laughing loud with tears all over our white faces
and countless most heartfelt warm embraces
cleaning the antique black and green kitchen was another highlight
as well as the two missing slices for our well-deserved sneaky bite
grandma's great excuse: the cake broke into two
our secret two-disappearing-slices-of-cake coup
all those emptied flour sacks we could never hide
were transformed into something itchy, white and wide
I wore them always with the hugest possible smile
despite and thanks to the formless but exclusive floury white-ghosts style
PS. She did not give me 'just' h e r recipe for this great cake but also her recipe for
Little Bee, Deaamoo, grandmother of the Crane Clan, lies staring. The light of
winter’s first full moon falls into the room. Through a ghostly haze of tobacco and
sage smoke, she sees her loved ones. One withered hand clasps a cowrie shell,
mee-ghis, tightly to her heart and in the other she holds a small dreamcatcher for
her youngest granddaughter Little Aamoo. Strands of gray white hair escape from
her braids which trail down beside her bird-frail form touching the fringe of her
parting dress. Her clan has been in the sweat lodge praying for her safe journey
home, some appear red-cheeked; others are a pale as the shades of her
ancestors. It is the end of her days, a time for passing on.
Outside of the house near the fringe of balsam pine a circle of stones are laid, each
one blessed and bringing an anchoring comfort to man, lodged between earth, and
sky. The four directions are marked and her way west is clear for her. Soon, she will
ask loved ones to lay here amongst the gifts laid for Pacugu, The Great horned Owl,
near the spirit house.
The veil is thin now between this world and the next. The smoke branches upward,
showing the way to sky world where Gichi Manidoo waits. The songs are being sung
for her now. The Shaman’s rattle is crisp and clear. All about her is beauty. Drums
keep the beat of her heart. They wait. Remembering one last story, she calls her
family to her, she must leave them with all the knowledge she has. "Ah, what was
that story? Well, that is not for you."
I do not know?
Teenage Girls clad in the latest fashions,
Do it whenever they meet,
Grown men aren't afraid to show some passion,
When their team's comeback is complete,
They can say hello, they can say goodbye,
And anything inbetween,
If you open your arms and crack a smile,
There is nothing that a hug cannot mean.
dancing, acting, performing
Artist, musician, poetess, magician
entrancing, captivating, giving
tiny lass who graced this world
joyfully brightening her grandmother’s life
less than 12 short years
smile so angelic, it could crown a Christmas tree
never seeking sympathy
Joycie’s zest for life drew admiration
leaving her gracious memory
in her family’s hearts
much we can learn from Joycie
who never succumbed to self-pity
each day, a celebration of life
albeit far too brief
her smile still shines in heaven
glowing beacon in the night sky
her grandmother finds comfort
seeing Joycie’s face -- a glowing star
Dedicated to Joyce Johnson and based on her poem “Joycie”
IT'S YOUR GRANDDAUGHTER,
YOU NEVER MET ME.
OVER THE YEARS I PICTURE YOUR FACE IN MY MIND.
I IMAGINE YOU HOLDING ME IN YOUR ROCKING CHAIR, SINGING
A LULIBY SONG TO ME.
WITH YOUR SILVER HAIR AND WRINKLE SOFT TISSUE SKIN.
GRANDMA , REMEMBER YOUR SON, MY FATHER.
HE USED TO HOLD ME IN HIS ARMS.
TELL ME HOW MUCH HE LOVES ME.
HE ROCKED ME TO SLEEP EVERY NIGHT
AND READ READ A BEDTIME STORY THAT
MADE MY EYES SLEEPY IN WONDERLAND.
I WISH YOU COULD OF SAW HOW MUCH HE LOVED ME,
A WONDERFUL FATHER I HAD.
WHENEVER I GOT SICK.
HE PLACED A COLD BROWN BRITTLE HAND TOWEL ON MY FOREHEAD,
KISSED MY RED SWOLLEN CHEEKS AND
MAGICALLY, THE FEVER DISAPPEARS AWAY.
HE USED TO TALKED ABOUT YOU GRANDA.
HOW BEAUTIFUL YOU WERE.
A LOVING AND CARING MOTHER YOU WAS TO HIM.
HE REALLY LOVED YOU AND GRANDPA LIKE TWO DANCING DOVES.
I LOVED YOU AND GRANDPA MY WHOLE LIFE,
LIKE YOU WERE WITH ME THROUGH MY CHILDHOOD.
I MISS MY FATHER SO MUCH.
NEVER HAD LONG ENOUGH TIME TO SHARE MY LIFE WITH HIM.
I NEVER GOT A CHANCE TO TELL HIM,
WHAT A WONDERFUL FATHER, DADDY HE WAS TO ME.
BUT I'M SURE.
SOMEHOW HE KNOWS I LOVED HIM DEEPLY.
HE DON'T WANT ME TO CRY ARE FEEL SAD.
I HOLD HIM IN MY HEART EVERYDAY.
AND I KNOW HE WATCHING OVER ME.
I GOT ALL THESE MEMORIES GRANDMA.
AND MY HEART FULL OF LOVE AND JOY.
I CAN CRY ONLY HAPPY TEARS.
KNOWING THAT YOU ALL IN HEAVEN TOGETHER,
SMILING DOWN ON ME.
THANK YOU, GRANDMA FOR BEING MY GRANDMA
AND HAVING A WONDERFUL SON, MY FATHER.
I LOVE YOU ALL.
SINCERLY, YOUR GRANDDAUGHTER AND DAUGHTER, ROBIN
I do not know?
B eautiful boy
R ough at play
Y oung and curious
C uddly and loving
E normous energy
A ngel from heaven
L oving and loyal
I rresistibly huggable
A dorably cute
N eat and outgoing
A pple of our eye
I do not know?
Battered an broken
In the shadows
Some are lost
Scars are there
Wings sprout ..
Can you see me?
This is my view of growing up around women abused an violated.
By TG Green