She was our sun, our earth, our star.
We listened to her, and revered her.
She knew how to give you eyes, with a silent face.
Revealing nothing of her own thoughts, in deference to you.
When she chose to be, she could be loud and fun and funny.
I had seen her this way, but it was not her natural instinct.
Which was to listen and love and learn all about us,
For as she learned about us quietly, we learned of ourselves.
We spoke of our bliss, our dreams, our hopes, our fears.
Seeking her out one at a time, trusting no audience to hear
What we could reveal to her, the best listener in the family.
Maybe the best listener in the universe, my grandma Jenny.
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2019