My dearest grandmother

February 17, 2009
By Megan SILVER, Greeley, Colorado
Megan SILVER, Greeley, Colorado
6 articles 0 photos 0 comments

I sit here upon this bed
Alone lost inside myself
thinking of the memories
from the past
Wishing they were still here

I can smell the cookies
Oh how the smell lingers
I can feel the warmth of the covers
As i pull the over myself
Now she comes through the door

MY grandmother with poofy whte hair
Carries a glass of milk in one hand
the plate of cookies in the other
And a book under her arm
through the door way of her bedroom

She sits the glass upon the night stand
The cookies upon my lap
She sits beside me and opens
my favorite story book
she begins to read

I can stll hear her soft voice
As she reads the rhymes
and sings the songs
Making all the different voices
just to make me laugh and smile

Soon everything dissappeares
and once again im alone
shes no longer here
no she isnt dead my freinds
she has alzhymers

Her very being is being sucked away
Her funny personality
withers away
Those story nights now gone
They are all but a memory now

But nothing can steal my memory away
of my dearest grandmother

The author's comments:
My grandmother used to read a book called"Sounds" to me when i was younger. It had always been my favorite. We would sit in her bed and read the stories. She was soon diagnosed with Alzhymers. She was doing bad but then started to get better. Then everything went back down once she had a seizure. Now everything keeps going down. Everything that she used to love to do, she cant do. She doesnt even remember me.She doesnt try to talk or anything. She just sits,or walks, or just lays in bed. Id like to thank my grandfather whos been there for her and has taken care of her this whole time. He didnt put her in a nursing home and forget about her like so many others would. Hes taken it upon himself to take care of her. Everyday he helps her through the day and is always there. Your a hero grandpa you really are. My grandmother was sort of the inspiration for this. With the memories i have of those story nights, i was abel to write this poem.

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