Aug 2018
i only had one grandma.
i had people of no relation who snaked their way into my heart and then abandoned me when things got too tough.
i had one who sent me 2 holiday cards and never spoke to me because she could care less for my mother.
and then i had her.
the woman with the beehive hair and the list of men who adored her.
the smoker.
the charmer.
the maker of the best baby blankets and christmas wreaths.
i had someone who woke me up with a hug and kiss and itsy bitsy spider on the tv.
with a cup of coffee in her hand and two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the counter, one for each of us.
i had a woman who was a terrible mother but saw nothing but beauty in me and knew that i was her ticket to forgiveness.
i had a woman who empowered me and made me feel beautiful.
from the baby pictures of me in her bathroom to the way her beautiful green eyes that she gave to me looked at me with such love and adoration.
i had a woman who spoiled me.
who wanted me to have everything, not so i could act privileged, but cultured.
i had someone who felt empty inside.
who abandoned her daughter.
who did drugs and smoked until her lungs gave up on her.
i had no more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
no more macaroni art.
i had no grandma.
and maybe that’s when i started to lose my innocence.
when i realized that the woman i idolized was ripped away due to selfishness and irresponsibility.
that the nights my mother would cry herself to sleep because my father wouldn’t ever stop yelling grandma wasn’t just one call away.
there was no protection.
and while i’ve forgotten her beautiful voice i can still hear screaming and crying.
i can still hear the moment of silence and the sad man playing the keys to the tune of amazing grace.
i can still hear my father silently priding himself because he knew that he had officially isolated my mother and i from all we had ever known.
and after that, doors were closed and locked.
there were more holes in the walls and bruises and welts.
the vacations were excessive because my mother dreaded being in the home she had once drafted and created for her family.
the white picket fence was torn down.
the dog was buried in the purple flowers.
and i saw the woman i call “mom” crumble to nothingness.
and my father rise from my nonexistent grandmas ashes.
i had people of no relation who snaked their way into my heart and then abandoned me when things got too tough.
i had one who sent me 2 holiday cards and never spoke to me because she could care less for my mother.
and then i had her.
the woman with the beehive hair and the list of men who adored her.
the smoker.
the charmer.
the maker of the best baby blankets and christmas wreaths.
i had someone who woke me up with a hug and kiss and itsy bitsy spider on the tv.
with a cup of coffee in her hand and two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the counter, one for each of us.
i had a woman who was a terrible mother but saw nothing but beauty in me and knew that i was her ticket to forgiveness.
i had a woman who empowered me and made me feel beautiful.
from the baby pictures of me in her bathroom to the way her beautiful green eyes that she gave to me looked at me with such love and adoration.
i had a woman who spoiled me.
who wanted me to have everything, not so i could act privileged, but cultured.
i had someone who felt empty inside.
who abandoned her daughter.
who did drugs and smoked until her lungs gave up on her.
i had no more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
no more macaroni art.
i had no grandma.
and maybe that’s when i started to lose my innocence.
when i realized that the woman i idolized was ripped away due to selfishness and irresponsibility.
that the nights my mother would cry herself to sleep because my father wouldn’t ever stop yelling grandma wasn’t just one call away.
there was no protection.
and while i’ve forgotten her beautiful voice i can still hear screaming and crying.
i can still hear the moment of silence and the sad man playing the keys to the tune of amazing grace.
i can still hear my father silently priding himself because he knew that he had officially isolated my mother and i from all we had ever known.
and after that, doors were closed and locked.
there were more holes in the walls and bruises and welts.
the vacations were excessive because my mother dreaded being in the home she had once drafted and created for her family.
the white picket fence was torn down.
the dog was buried in the purple flowers.
and i saw the woman i call “mom” crumble to nothingness.
and my father rise from my nonexistent grandmas ashes.
