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Millie Jun 6
"Twinkle twinkle little star"
"You are my sunshine" in the car
When grandpa grabs your arm and shakes
Two candy bars will soon replace
And as we're driven home that day
His candy strewn across our face
We smile because we know we'll see
Our grandfather again next week
Miss you Grandpa
Yemaya Apr 17
Your mouth struggles, mind grasping at sounds to make words.

Blurting out nonsensical madness.

Your eyes scream out desperately.

I wish I knew what to say

To reach you.
Jean Feb 23
Tonight you sat down
Scouring through love letters
written by your grandparents
Johnny was in the Philippines
And Ena was back home
I wish I were there with you
No mask
No distance
I wish I were there with you
Pouring over love letters and
Not needing to write them
2.22.22
I was brooming below the bed once,
and suddenly swayed

a flashback rushed my head

we used to play that game,
do you remember?
until dementia took you away
https://www.instagram.com/wutheringsbronte/
N Schulte Dec 2020
When we think of grandparents,
We think of smiling faces
Warm hugs
Sometimes slow or in a wheelchair
But they are always there to listen

But one day they won’t listen
They want to but
they can’t
Their ears aren’t working as well anymore
You have to shout when you’re five feet away

They won’t hear your words
But they’ll see your face, the sadness
The frustration
They’ll know that they are getting old
And when they know it, you know it and it hurts
Pt. 2
Betty Dec 2020
I kept them for years
those fingerless stripy gloves
a last little link with my mother
who was a diva with the needles
the yellow strands of wool joining us together
in a beautifully knitted chain
although she is long gone from this world,
I found comfort in them once again today
although many years have passed
and I noticed her hands coming out of my sleeves
This is a personal one- how we turn into our parents. The gloves were her final pair before illness robbed her of everything.
Francie Lynch Nov 2020
When I get big, as big as Granda,
I can do whatever I wanta.
I won't have to go to bed,
Even though I'm nodding.
I'll stay up late, yawn and stretch,
Let my eyes dry out, rub and scratch,
Staring at the late night screen,
And think of jobs in need doing,
Like raking, shoveling, weeding, mowing.
Thanksgiving isn't far away, then
Christmas comes and family stays.
Granda stays up late and thinks
Of doing something before he sinks.
He doesn't have to clean the harvest,
Stain a table for a daughter, or
Drive to London for a visit.
He doesn't have to go to school,
And follow everybody's rules.
For all he's worth, and we're not sure,
He's staying here for many more.
Granda: I had a Granda when I was a boy in Ireland, but I don't remember him at all, although I have a picture on my wall.  My father was a Papa to my kids, and there are no Grandas around, so I decided I'd be the Granda in Canada. And it works. All my grandkids call me, Granda.
Mansi Nov 2020
My grandparents house
was a safe haven,
A space where
Time nor stress
existed

A place filled with
My grandmothers
Stories of birds
And princesses
That lulled me
Into peaceful
Sleep

A place filled with
memories of
Eating mangoes,
And popsicles
with My grandfather
On hot summer days
Inspired by Nikita Gill’s “On the Way to Delhi, We Stop at Nani’s House”
I wanna smell that fall air I smelt as a kid
Just got done raking watching the leaves burn as we sit
hoping they don’t catch wind
Fresh cut grass right after on the mower with the messed up seat
Go inside with the doors open watching the birds feed as we sit and eat
Watermelon and salt with a sandwich, no worries just fun innocence  
simple days I didn’t take for granted, wouldn’t have ever wanted something different
Couldn’t ask for better days as a kid
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