Grandmother

I sit here on my grandmother’s rocking chair.
I feel her use her fingers to brush through my hair.
I listen to her tell me stories and I laugh at the funny parts.
I remember on Valentine’s Day I send her so many hearts.

I sit here in my grandmother’s living room.
I watch as she plays pretend guitar with a broom.
I hear to the old music play from the CDs.
I remember how she always makes me say ‘please.’

I sit here in my grandmother’s cool car painted red.
I feel the wind fly by and smack my hair to my head.
I talk to her about all the days that have yet to pass.
I remember her little white face that always seemed to laugh.

I sit here in line with grandmother at the Acme down the block.
I hear the time tick by so quickly on the clock.
I feel the life I have pass me by, leaving me in a daze.
I remember her seeming so frail with age.

I sit here in bed thinking about grandmother so ill.
I watch her next to my grandfather counting out their pills.
I listen to them talk and I can see the sparks flying.
I remember thinking “I can’t imagine my grandfather crying.”

I sit here in my grandmother’s room, filled with cards and flowers.
I feel the love consume me in as I watch her lay sleeping for hours.
I listen to her breathing and I smile knowing that she is here.
I remember getting the news and being filled with fear.

There is nobody in my grandmother’s rocking chair.
There are no fingers running through my hair.
There isn’t a broom wishing to be a guitar.
There is no one driving her cool red car.

I stand alone in the Acme line.
I still have no control over time.
I see everybody crying all around me.
Yet, I feel happy knowing she is free.