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May 2014
I heard a cry from deep inside,
That told me I had regret.
For the most uplifting person,
And the most considerate yet.
I assumed her to be relentless,
Constant late night calls after ten,
Sleeping with only one eye open,
The ranting and raving in the downstairs den.
But I was irrational and overly critical,
Oblivious to the trauma she endured,
I feel of a shadow to her now,
With still much to explore.
In my younger days,
I’d recognize her at every event I had,
Despite her pain,
She seemed to have always been glad.
Glad she had the opportunity to see me,
Always willing to help me too,
Long walks to the pond,
Her whole life I’d misconstrued.
I wish I could’ve done more,
To help such a creative woman like you,
But I’m ending this poem now,
With these last five words, “Grandma, I truly love you.”
Shari Forman
Written by
Shari Forman  New York
(New York)   
855
 
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