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My Grandma's Hands

December 11, 2012
By Abi_12 BRONZE, McDonough, Georgia
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Abi_12 BRONZE, McDonough, Georgia
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
&quot;If conversation was the music, laughter was the lyrics, making time spent together a melody that could be played over and over without getting stale&quot;<br /> -The Choice (Nicholas Sparks)

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There is a secret box
hidden behind a man,
that can only be opened
by my grandma's hands.

The man is in a frame.
his boy is in his lap,
both dazzling beneath the sun,
she reaches for her scrap.

A scrap of tissue is always
within her timid grasp.
She reaches for the box,
and removes the tiny clasp.

Inside she finds a photo
of them from eons ago,
bundles of blue clothing
surround his small glow.

The man is but a child, himself,
there are no thoughts of end,
for then, he was only
wrapped in my grandma's hands.

© Beth S., Marblehead, MA

The author's comments:
My grandmother lost her son (my uncle) seven years ago to a brain tumor. As a child, I would find her looking at the picture of him and his son (my cousin) that was on her dresser. Behind it was a box of pictures of him and her. She still cries about it often, especially this time of the year, around his birthday and death day. We set balloons off for him last week, and the whole situation has been heavy on my heart, so I thought I would write about it.
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