Last night I started my poetry class and I'm one of the first groups to submit poetry. I'm going to submit the Southern Charm poem, but I also want to write a poem in memory of my grandma. I'm just doing a free write now (my job installed Word 2013 and you can blog directly from it. J )
To my best friend, mentor and light;
through thick and thin, and despite fights,
since birth, our love will be forever bound,
in death no despair will be found.
I remember the days when I used to pout,
and I would cry out,
"please don't leave me! Don't go!"
But, alas, you had work til the moon didn't show,
I remember the day that you retired and left,
a tinge of happiness for a five year old and her emotional heft.
I remember the days when you housed boys
from Europe and to me they would bring toys
and love from both you and Daniel, with candy,
coffee, donuts, and brandy.
It was a Saturday ritual, yes that's right.
Daniel and I would turn right,
into Bridgeport, we'd speed in your car,
off to Suzy Joe's and Starbucks coffee bar.
We'd all sit around the table,
and both of you would tell fables
of your journeys in Germany and Prague,
and the June rain and fog.
I remember my teenage years,
when you used to wipe away the tears;
you used to persuade me to stop
the cutting, screams and shouts topped--
they hate me! I just don't want to go,
as breathing became frenzied and shallow.
I remember that day,
after that diagnosis, the doctors say,
"you're bipolar two, you need it,"
as for my parents, like a brick it hit.
You championed my cause,
but doubts never paused.
You said I got better and happy,
with poems less depressing and sappy.
Now I try to forget,
the night I saw you lying wet;
calling for the light,
fighting against the horrors of night.
You let out your last breath,
and we all wept
as we said goodbye,
my gratitude will never lie.