Sunday, May 11, 2008


Grandma shined in my eyes.
An absolute shine that was in my heart,
in my soul.
She being in my head.
Grandma had a way of getting into my head.
A perception, I thought, beyond her age.
She knew when my actions were benevolent
and called to me with a smile.
I remember doing wrong
and she forgave me,
way before Ma and Pa ever knew.
She always did things like that.
She had a special gift.

Grandma would always buy me things.
Things that I didn't like
Things I didn't want.
Days, even months,
then years
later I would use them.
Grandma would know.
Grandma always knew.

I would send salutation
without words,
much the way I did when eating slices of Shoofly Pie
and glasses of milk delivered daily
--in the kitchen.
Her kitchen,
with patterned window curtains
and animal shaped pot holders,
checkered tiles and the aroma of cinnamon and chives.
Clean as creation, it was brilliant,
much like the sun.
Looking back,
the sun always seemed to shine
more brightly then.
Even when it rained.
I would sit there
in the kitchen,
Grandma in the den.
We would talk for hours.
In silence.
Much the way we do now.
She in Heaven
-- and me,
basking in the light
of her beauty.
Her shine.
Talking up a storm
which would always turn
into rainbows.

Grandma's Shine by Shazza Nakim
Copyright © by Peace of Mind Publishings and with permission by Shazza Nakim

1 comment:

jjbrock said...

Great poem it made me think on my own Big Mommy. She gave me a home when I didn't have one.