Poem For Grandma

These last weeks as I have shared memories and things about my Grandma you've probably gotten to know bits and pieces about her and my family. The final share is a Poem written by my daughter and captures wonderful memories of Grandma. She read the Poem at my Grandmother's Celebration of Life. Enjoy and thanks for bearing with me the past few weeks!

From her, the Earth

When I peel kiwis, I think of her,

the furry fruit held in one hand,

now I see her hands in mine. It was she

who taught me to love the odd fruit.

My youngest still won’t eat them, as I would not.

“It’s good for you, full of fiber” she would say,

and now I repeat. There wasn’t much more I loved than

to sit in her kitchen while she made pancakes

with honey, always honey. And then later follow

her to the garden and walk her neat rows, the only

part of her life uncluttered. Strawberries,

I remember planting myself in her garden

next to the strawberries, stained fingers

with small sweet berries, or not, and willing them to ripen

(patience, another lesson). But always she found me,

and scolded me “Save some-now come on here”

she would say and then maybe we would feed the chickens,

pull carrots, cut flowers, sell eggs from her back porch.

And even later she would sew me a dress

while I hung upside down from her inverstion table,

the dress done already, it seemed.

To me, she was never anything else-

blossom of the earth, master of the needle,

strong woman, who I am.

Mistee Great-Granddaughter