To my Grandma
To my Grandma
I didn't mean to follow
in your footsteps
I meant to forge
my own glittering path
full of travel
and rocket ships
and publications and patents
But color called to me
and a driving need to create
answered
I guess it was in my blood
just like the teacher in me
who's just like you
I remember
pouring through color
and patterns with you
How you couldn't wait
to cut and piece
or cast on
or loop and stitch
Your needles dancing
to the cadence of your voice
while sweaters and blankets
grew out of your hands
and pooled in your lap
I remember watching you
massage your swollen fingers
each morning and night
so they could keep up
with your passion
It's my hands now
that can't be still
they too are wrinkled
my fingers bent
and knuckles stiff and aching
Now it's me
massaging my hands
wach morning and night
just like you
I didn't mean to follow
in your footsteps
I took a detour along the way
but I'm back now
and wish you were still here
to guide me
Art and Words by Beverly Ash Gilbert