My Grandmother
I only remember my Grandmother

As an old irritating woman

I have no memory of her

As the beautiful young girl

She was

My Grandfather

Died when my Mother was young

I looked at the pictures

Slightly blurred

Sepia toned

The face of a man

Looked back at me

I man I did not know

I remember seeing a photo

Of my Mother

When she was about three

My Grandfather was standing

Over her

On the sidewalk in front of

Their house

He was a large man

With a great stomach

I wonder how my Grandparents met

What they thought when they did

Was it love at first sight

Were they happy

Did my Grandmother really

Want children

Or would she have liked

To have lived another way

My Mother kept

The beautiful little

Pierced plate

In the cupboard

When she got it out

She would tell how

My Grandmother

Prepared Communion

On the little place

With grapes painted on it

Each Sunday

For thirty seven years

Since my Grandfather

Died so long ago

My Grandmother

Lived alone

Was she lonely

Did she cry herself to sleep at night

I wonder how she did it

So many things I would

Have liked to have asked her

Note:  I think I was a bit of a brat, growing up, always in a hurry… no time, just to sit and think, always busy.  I’m sorry now, I didn’t know how to ask my Grandmother all the things I wanted to know….


Claudia asked us to write a poem and ask questions of someone famous, or someone else…

21 thoughts on “March 23, 2013 dVerse

  1. sometimes it’s the little things that give us clues about their view on life..i like all the little details you weave in, the photo, the pierced plate… sometimes i ask my mom about my grandparents and she tells me the one or other story..

  2. mmm,,,yeah, i think i would have spent more time at my grandfathers side if i knew he would be gone by the time i was ten…he was a fireman…i remember his smell…he was big on respect and authority, but had a kind heart as well….

  3. Isn’t it sad when the grandparants you never knew… you would have liked to meet them at their prime. I have seen pictures of a beautiful young woman who was my grandmother… and I only knew her as a wrinkled old lady…

  4. My last grandparent died when I was six. It really is sad when children don’t have an opportunity to get to know grandparents. It is sad when one can’t ask the questions one would want to ask. We have to remember to ask questions of those in our life who are alive….while they are alive.

  5. Oh my, yes, I missed out on so much with all of my grandparents as well, I suppose when you are young you just don’t think to ask these things, if you even have the time before they are gone. I like to ask my mom to tell her stories now, and learn bits and pieces about them through her. But how wonderful it would be to go back for a day and have a conversation with them in person.

  6. I think it’s normal for kids to take those things for granted… the loved ones and their inner beings, getting to really know them. It’s only with age and wisdom that we appreciate these things… and think we all have similar regrets.

  7. I hope and wonder if our grandchildren, by reading our blogs will some day begin to understand some of who we are/were. I understand this feeling of aching for more…

  8. Absolutely authentic and heart-wrenching and more-so heart warming – you prove unequivocally that love never dies – no matter whether or not we carry regrets or grief – love – your love here for your grandmother ripples through your words – It is said by the scientists that “matter and energy never die” and so somewhere in your words, in your articulation of your thoughts and in your sharing of these beautiful words your questions are heard and your answers received. Wow- this poem really opened the flood-gates for me – I’m tempted to not post this long-winded comment – but perhaps you will enjoy, if nothing else, the thought and emotion you evoked. Bravo!

  9. Loved this, Annell. I always love poems that look back into the past and its beloved long gone people. I spent so much time with my grandma both as a small child and again in her last 20 years. No matter how many stories she told me, I still regret that I didnt ask her EVERYTHING – and record it all. Soon no one in the family will remember her stories… sad.

  10. ..they had such great memories for us to tap into…and even though we had the tape recorder before they went we still didn’t use it…I regret that too…..understand

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