REGRET
My Grandma gave me a quarter a long time ago
when I was twelve... what a year that was...
and you know how you’re caught unaware
sometimes and you have no idea at all
that something important is happening.
It was the last time I would ever see her.
She was a big woman, not fat, just big.
I don’t remember her without an apron
She liked all of us and looked at us
even when we didn’t see her doing it.
Grandma led me aside from the others
and took my hand and looked at me
for a second and gave me the quarter.
She knew the gift wasn’t the money.
I had an inkling but didn’t see it clearly.
I don’t know what she gave to the others.
They didn’t say, and I didn’t ask or say
what she gave to me perhaps for fear
I’d learn that I wasn’t the most special,
the one she loved above all the others.
Grandma never worked at a paying job.
I know she got money by selling eggs
to the peddler who came once a week.
She bought thread from him and sugar.
I wish I knew what I did with that quarter.
2 comments:
Love this post. What made you think of that after all these years? I do that often, flash backs of seemingly unimportant events, but were important enough for me to recall 30-40-50 years later.
Maybe I have your quarter, right, you never know.
I know what you mean: My mother's mother was the kindest, most attentive, grandmother a guy could have. Many a "koffeeklotsch" she would bake in the German style she had learned. She got the first TV I ever saw (12" Philco) from her sons, my bachelor uncles (never did marry). We watched Milton Berle and snacked on her wonderful bakings. She died at only 61 of congestive heart failure, while I was in my freshman year at Cal. I miss her to this day.
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