She taught me reading of words upon her knee
At four twenty and four Washington Ave,
In the kitchen she made crust pies for me
I’ve never had better than those I’d have.
You know, in eighteen hundred ninety nine
This country was a dissimilar place,
Lacking conveniences from in our time!
Automobile excursion, not outer space.
States were not all states; borders not yet strung.
Through History she stayed forever young.
When somebody has been there all your life
They can be simply taken for granted.
Through the moments of joy, hard times and strife,
She was there with love given openhanded.
It’s art to be a grandmother; science too.
Some are artisans. Mine was a master.
Carve their statute in white alabaster?
I count it a blessing I’m her grandson.
I’ll survey her and stay forever young.
Eleventh, June, nineteen seventy four,
Happy Birthday, mam-mam, at seventy-five.
You gave the future to me, and much more,
You made the past glow vivid and alive.
Today ev’rybody sings you a song.
I want you to know in my heart will sing
Each story told, ev’ry toy you would bring,
And this paean will forever be sung.
For being so hip and forever young!
Written for my maternal; grandmother on her 75th birthday.
The photos are of her in her youth and on her last birthday celebrating with her great grand children.
Esther 1899-1978
Written for my maternal; grandmother on her 75th birthday.
The photos are of her in her youth and on her last birthday celebrating with her great grand children.
Esther 1899-1978
