Longing for memories we never made

For my late Grandmother, 
Mary Alyce Greathouse


I used to take your picture from Daddy's dresser drawer, and just stare

For years you've been smiling at me from
that cherished place,
among his “smell-goods”

 

Well, today I need to know something

You see, I never really knew you, Granny
but Daddy’s told me of our family history

And your maiden name

I only remember you left this earth when
I was 6 years old, and how my Daddy cried
 

All my early memories are blurred with bits and pieces
of southern fried scenes smothered in gravy and onions
And big, bosomy hugs

My mind couldn’t ever conjure your face, Granny
So I would hold your picture, framed in antique silver,

and trace the wide happiness of your smile caught in
that candid moment

I imagine your laughter, and I am proud to say I see our
resemblance when I smile

I wonder if your sadness looked like mine, too
I wonder how much of you still breathes
outside the picture frame, inside of me
 
How I miss you, Granny
I miss the times we didn’t get to make the memories
that would give me a firm grip of you 

Some old-fashioned, Southern Grand-mothering 

on Daddy's side, that I can hold onto
  
For times when I'm up against a hard life test

At least I’d know what my Granny would do...

Bridget Alyce © 2001