quality

I wish I could paint a picture for you
make a movie
write abook

Put it all down so
you could take it all back in
live it again

I wish I could find all the puzzle pieces
I wish I knew what the picture it is you are seeing

Really, it is not the quantity
It's the quality

The moments with you are not so vast
but they are quality

I will try and remember that
and to tell my children

purple is green

Purple is green
in my world of red

Where grief is always good
just like I said

Then you took from me,
What I was not done with

You sat it down and said "Why don't you eat a bit?"
Well, which is it?

water is candy and sweet to the tongue
milk is my tea
and juice makes me smile

But please be careful with the fan
or I shall burn till I freeze

What was your name?
Cali, Sally..oh..Kelly
I have known you a long time haven't I?
Thirty-seven years, I thought so
I love you too

my words

Can you catch the word in front of me...can you not see it there?
The letters hang on my hair, my tongue...like a cloud they float around and taunt me like a child.

They surround me like a shroud...sometimes too tight...sometimes too loose, like a cut strand of pearls...falling one by one.....

The words fight me like an enemy and hang on me like a child drowning....simultaneously.

Can you help me?
Can you raise my words from the dead,
can you bring life to them with your pen?

Your glasses

If only I could wear your glasses..I would see the world as you do.
I would understand why you say and do the things you do.

Why you look at me with lost eyes, eyes that are searching me as if you want me to say the words.
Why you struggle and stummble over your words while I nod my head like I understand clearly.

Why sometime you go to bed with your shoes on and not under the sheets, just the top blanket.
Sometimes the dog is a cat and the kids are critters.
One day you miss Grandpa and yet another you mention thee men you married and they are gone now.

What stories weave in your mind? They change from moment to moment as the pages move.
What will catch you attention today? What will frustrate you and be difficult to explain?
I try and remember to borrow your glasses and see your world as you do...but sometimes they too are lost.
Will will need to try and have patience with one another. I will try and have enough patience for the both of us.

I am your Granddaughter

I know that my face may not be as familiar as it was yesterday
and your bed may be foreign to you as well
But I will make sure that you have what you need when you need it
At least I will do my best
I know I cannot ask you to be patient with me..
I will just have to tell myself to try and have more patience
We are both far from perfect but we are family whether you remember or not..but that’s ok
I love you regardless and will be here for you as long as I possibly can
Who am I you ask?
I am the one who tucks you in at night
The one who helps you change
I am the one who gets you tissue when you seem to need it
I am the one who watches out for you
It is not just me but my husband and your great grandkids…
We all watch over you and care for you…and we love you and laugh with you...just as you are
I have not always been here…but I am here now Grandma
Who am I?
I am your Granddaughter.
Your words echo in the walls of this old house Grandma…and I listen to them
They say to keep my eyes focused on our Provider…to not lose hope and sight of who He is
Your eyes and your body may be tired…but your spirit is strong.
Thank you for laying the foundation…
Even though now you look at me with questions in your eyes
I am your granddaughter.

All I need

A bit of sugar in my tea
keeps me sweet

Light by my bed at night
so I can read

A hug from time to time
tells me that you love me

A few words shared
encourages me

Simply smiling as you pass by
helps my heart feel free

it used to be

it used to be that grandma would close the long curtains once the sun went down over the hill

it used to be that grandma would wake up before the sun and make a cup of tea and start her day by praying for the ones she loves

it used to be that grandma loved to pick up her violin and play a sweet melody to match those of the birds

it used to be that grandma loved to paint and sketch the beauty she saw around her

it used to be that she could tell me the stories of all the wonderful places she's travelled with grandpa

it used to be...

it used to be..that she knew my name

it used to be..but not anymore..she has forgotten

but thats ok..because I have not..

she is still my grandma