A Gentle Soul
My grandchildren call me "Nana".
There was only ONE real Grandma.
We buried her many years ago.
That name we called her still rings with awe.
How could someone with so little have such joy?
She bubbled and always wore a smile.
A murderer could walk in off the street...
She'd welcome him with open arms for a while.
Grandma, with her work-roughened hands,
wore the same hair style all my life.
Grandma, raising six healthy kids,
hard-working farm woman and loving wife.
Her print dresses were made from pressed feed sacks
that zipped right straight up the back,
Her long life was laced with heartache,
and she was never a stranger to lack.
"I'm so glad you came to see me!
Come in! Come in!" she'd say.
"Would you like a piece of coconut cake?
I just baked it fresh today!"
I don't remember a single time in my life
That I heard my Grandma swear.
There was just no ugly inside her,
only love and concern and care.
Every time I went to see her, she said,
"Won't you come to see me sometime?"
I'd think, "I'm here, Grandma. See me?"
I thought she was losing her mind.
But I never said a word about it,
and I thank God now that it's true.
You see, today I understand what she meant,
because this Nana gets lonely sometimes too.
My Grandma was a REAL lady.
She wouldn't even hang her panties out to dry.
She was embarrassed some stranger would see them,
if a car should happen to pass by.
She never said the word "pregnant".
It was, "Someone swallowed a watermelon seed."
She didn't want a child to hear such things.
"Little pictures have big ears." Yes, indeed.
On holidays and special times I miss her,
or days when I'm sitting all alone.
I'll think, "I wish I could talk to Grandma."
But you know what? She never had a telephone.
No luxuries we all think as necessary.
No AC, compact discs or microwave...
Just an old a. m. radio, and a black and white TV,
and never lived on a road that was paved.
She's the only person I ever met in my life
who never once got upset at me.
That's because love she gave to everyone of us
was genuine, It was unconditional and it was free.
If I'm listening to the radio when I'm driving,
I'll cry when Beulah Land is played.
I can still hear her saying, "Oh, I thank God for
everything he has done for me, Lord yes I'm saved!"
I feel sorry for today's children,
who have MeeMaws, and Nana's and some such.
They'll never once know how precious it is
to feel the rough hands of a Grandma's touch.
Author's Notes/Comments:
This poem is about my grandmother, Fannie Cook, of Heard County Georgia. She lived in the Texas community northwest of Franklin on a farm. We all miss her dearly.
Captivating. I felt as though I was really getting to know through years. I could feel the love you put into this and the gentle quilt background with a picture of her enhanced it. Simply breath-taking and beautiful to have such unconditional love.