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
I’m sitting here on this lazyboy in my grandma’s apartment watching her breath while she sleeps on the couch. The television is playing dvd’s she’s created over the years with pictures of all that’s important to her- her family. Hymns and songs of worship that help her feel God’s pleasure fill the room. They’re songs she selected for the family memories she had put together.
Sheila Dougal 