From a young age I knew
there was a man and a woman out there, complete strangers,
who were, biologically, my grandparents.
I knew my chances of meeting them were exactly zero to none.
The parents who took my dad home that day were his parents
And that was done.

Before me sat a grandmother, and the spirit of a grandfather passed,
who loved me more than any stranger-grandparent ever could
who was there for every dance recital, every holiday, every mistake, every success
who, though I bore no resemblance, watched me grow right before her eyes
who swore the Easter bunny left treats at her house for me--
even when I was beyond the years of belief.
Always wearing a  sweatsuit and gold stud earrings,
with an added neck-scarf and red lip for special occasions.
Telling tales of the "poor dear" animal she saw
Dead on the side of the road--
Sad enough, you'd think it was her own.
Church every Sunday and the shirt off her back,
Had you asked.

This woman I explain
Shares no blood, but, a surname.
I love her just the same
If not more
Than any grandmother
Genetics had in store.

She's a part of who I am,
though not in my DNA.
Nature versus Nurture:
Nurture wins again.
She taught me:
Strength, grace, humility, selflessness, generosity, and patience
Without sharing one biological thread
By example she lead
And I continue to follow
In her footsteps.