Blisters
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In the late 1960’s, Granny washed dishes
By hand – no dishwasher for her;
Though she often had her daughter wash
Who was 10 years older than I was
Who I followed every waking hour
Who I loved as only a sister is loved
Who I would always, to this day, admire
She was the one who taught me everything –
To dream, to paint, to dance, to pray
She was the courageous, outgoing, fireball
I was quiet and shy, a curly haired introvert
~
When she washed dishes after supper
I stood by her side, on a stool which lifted me
High enough to put my hands on the side
Where the rinse water would be poured.
~
My Granny was faithfully sanitary to say the least
She rinsed her dished with boiling water from the stove
And that was just what my aunt-sister did that day
As I screamed from the pain that caused those
Angry blisters over my small arms and hands.
Copyright © Regina Mcintosh | Year Posted 2019
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