the war is over grandma

grandma was a little girl
back in 45
“It’s over. The war.”
her teacher hollered outside

she remembered that day
outside the schoolhouse
also a church
kicking the can to play

she remembered being mad
the teacher’s news meant
no more fun
she wanted to run

she recalled the holler
little river rock house
where she was born
from there her heart was torn

at 15 the boy on the bus
became her husband
took her with him to Cali
far from momma and daddy

sweet 16, Bobby Ray
my pa made her a mommy
“I was just a kid babe”
Shook her head remembering that day

four more children
in her teens and early 20’s
Terry, Gary, Greg and Tommy
her sweeties

she had regrets
tears can’t take her back
to the day when her son
left to go with his dad

“I thought I was doing what was right”
bitter tears flowed from her eyes
down wrinkled cheeks
her hand in mine

“I was just a kid”
she lamented what she did
to his daughter
now she pled

“It’s ok grandma”
i held her close
her tiny frame
tucked next to my breast

“If we could just have had hindsight
we could have loved better”
she wished she could have seen
what her youth wouldn’t let her

she talked. I listened
those days after the lesion
when cancer pressed
brain, bone and breath

grandma was a little girl
83 knocking on heaven’s door
she tasted the love of the Father
in being her daddy’s daughter

she remembered the love
no sentiment of sainthood
she knew sin, hers
and those of her kin

she remembered being a girl
loved by a dad
forgiven
even still

that trust she once had
before her childish run
to play grownup went bad
became her hope in the Son

“Unless you become like a child”
she quoted the Bible
she knew now what Jesus meant
His red words New Testament

grandma was a girl
the Teacher stopped her play
and gave her His peace
she went home with today

(My late grandma Oleta and I in conversation weeks before she passed. She was an “older woman” in my life too.)