Each summer,
When the temperatures soared,
It was time for Nana's soup.
Soup in the summer?
You might wonder.
Yes, soup in the summer—
Her special soup from the garden,
The very garden where we grew the vegetables.
Nana's soup was special,
A meal we always made together.
We began in the garden,
Choosing only the finest vegetables
For the bubbling pot.
It was time to harvest
Everything her recipe required.
We shelled the peas by hand
And snapped the beans.
Tomatoes roasted
Until they were just right.
When we made Nana's special soup,
We weren't just making supper.
We were making memories
To last a lifetime,
Memories that warmed our hearts
Long after the soup was gone.
can I bring my glam-ma on the field trip? asked little Lou
Sure, said the teacher, I’ll give you another slip, here are two.
She thought the child had trouble pronouncing an R.
But when she saw his glam-ma, she knew she was a star.
Some of us are nanas or grandmas or grandmothers
This woman was a fashion statement, not like the others
She exuded sensuality, she was a fashion statement and bold.
Nothing about her said aged, seasoned, withered or old.
Twelve years ago today, I sat
In a garden, where the birds
Chirped and frolicked in the fountain;
I was waiting for the words
Which would let me know that I’d become
A nana to a boy
And making room within my heart
For some never-ending joy.
No matter what you hear or read,
There is no way to know
How a grandchild stakes his claim on you
And never lets it go.
Of course, that’s if you’re lucky,
And the way things have unfurled,
I’m among the very luckiest
Of nanas in the world!
Women
An ode to women
The ones that carry us
The ones that raise us
The ones that care for us
The ones that support us
The ones that picked us up when we fell down
Moms, nanas, meemaws, grannies, mimis
So many names for the first ones who loved us
The women of our family
Are the reason for our survival
They guide so we do not fail
But when we do they are still there.
Women
An ode to women
The ones that carry us
The ones that raise us
The ones that care for us
The ones that support us
The ones that picked us up when we fell down
Moms, nanas, meemaws, grannies, mimis
So many names for the first ones who loved us
The women of our family
Are the reason for our survival
They guide so we do not fail
But when we do they are still there.
Eleven years ago tonight,
Our son and his new bride
Exchanged their vows to start their life
Together, side by side.
Today, they’re off to celebrate,
A mini-trip away
So with our grandkids (8 & 6)
We have the chance to stay.
It isn’t like the days gone by
When nanas merely cooked.
In modern days we Uber them
To every place they’re booked.
Today was soccer, tennis and
A trip to pick up glasses.
Tomorrow will be Hebrew school
And thus, the weekend passes.
This time is like a yummy cake -
The grands, of course, the frosting.
It’s totally delicious but
It’s totally exhausting.
Beaches are open and golf courses, too.
Neighbors are meeting for barbecue.
Barbers are snipping like they used to do
But I’m quarantining at home.
Nanas and grandpas are visiting kin.
Sports venues say they’re prepared to begin.
Sunbathers slather their pale indoor skin
While within my apartment I roam.
Restaurants keep tables a distance apart.
Museums let patrons with masks look at art.
So many are ready for life to restart
As I sit here, inside, with my poem.
The 4 year olds were all invited
For a cup of tea,
Though whether they will drink it
Is a mystery to me.
A get-together after school,
With only girls allowed,
Seems like a perfect setting
For the ballet-dancing crowd.
The babysitter runs the show
With toys and games and snacks
So all the moms and nanas
Have some time to just relax.
Though calling it a tea party
Brings Alice to my mind,
In modern lingo, I would guess
It's differently defined.
Warmest Birthday Wishes
Belated Greetings, Cousin.
We are both Nanas, now!
I remember us playing cutouts,
in front of your living room door.
We'd set up a little table and
charming little chairs, too.
The door would be open and
screened, so we could see the
sky, so wonderfully bright and blue.
We's walk to Fairyland and enjoy
the Merry Go Round.
And Cousin Lon, if you listen
closely, you will still hear the
sound!
You were such a wee, pretty.
little angel!
And I was so very blessed to
take care of you.
You still are as sweet now as
you were then!
We both are older, yes!
But the bond between us will
never end, that's my guess!
Happy Birthday!
My grandson started kindergarten;
This is school day 4.
My job was simply walking him
Up to the entry door.
With his backpack on my shoulder
We strolled slowly, holding hands
And I felt the kind of feelings
Every Nana understands -
That the years have flown too quickly!
Wasn't it just yesterday
When I rocked him to accompany
A lullaby's soft sway?
At the school he grabbed his backpack,
Slung it over like a pro
And I faded to the background,
Where all Nanas need to go.
Here’s to the mothers who sit there alone –
No flowers, no candy, no calls on the phone.
Here’s to the moms in a hospital bed
Who would rather be anyplace other instead.
Here’s to the soldier moms, hoping for smiles
On a screen or an I-phone, connecting the miles.
Here’s to the mamas locked up in a jail,
Convinced that their cards just got lost in the mail.
Here’s to all mothers and nanas and aunts
United today by just one circumstance –
They have shared in the life of a child in some way
And deserve recognition, somehow, on this day.
A runny nose needs tissues.
A hungry mouth needs food.
A bottom needs a diaper change
Whenever it has pooed.
In winter, hands need mittens.
In snow, feet need some boots.
These aren't up for maybes;
They are, rather, absolutes.
A sleepy face needs naptime.
A bored one needs a game
Or book or song or puzzle
For distraction is the aim.
A bath requires bubbles.
A bare floor needs a rug;
But nanas (also grandpas)
Don't need much besides a hug.
Holding Henry’s hands as he
Perambulates the room
Imbues him with the power
Which he cannot quite assume.
He knows the basics – right foot, left,
But balance is elusive;
Desire, though, outpaces skill
So Nanas are conducive.
But very soon he’ll have the knack;
He won’t need my assistance
And then there’ll come a day
When holding hands will meet resistance.
And so for now we walk and walk,
His hands and mine connected,
Wherever he may lead until
This walking thing’s perfected.
Nana prays for us all,
As she clutches her rosary,
Her angels’ wings we adore…
This grand lady God sent to us,
A gift from above…
Nana always makes us welcome,
Nana always has a kind word,
Nana always has a smile,
Nanas rosary she prays for us all…
She prays to her God,
…Many blessings she is bestowed…
Her angels’ wings we adore,
…We pray for you too Nana…
This lovely lady without judgement,
For her God of love, he knows,
…All forgiveness found within the love of a wise heart,
…with many blessings he has bestowed.
Shuld
Itokov
Nanas
Slo
Deth
Dance
N'
Aged
Frame
of
Kni
Bluen
Grey
Heaps
To stone
Before
Mi
Very
Ize
This
Deth
Repel
This
Negative
Prospect
Ov
Not
Is
Highly
Cept
To a
Flux
Frm
Flortowall
Frm
Sonic
Sub
Howls
N'
Nether
Worlds
Gone
Incrax
N'
Pop
Atoff
the Ambivilles
With haste
Plumbeting
Properly
Clocked
To watch
The not
Ov
Eternal
Free
Free
Mary Singleton (Nana)
1908-1992
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