Crocheting for Christmas

{Post: 323/365}

I am crocheting

gifts for Christmas

and as I crochet

I remember

the grandmother

who taught me to

crochet flowers

somewhere

locked away in a bin

is the bedspread she made me

crocheted by hand

made with love

all the more special

because I understood the WORK

she put into it

and somewhere a pillow

made by my own hand

to match

but more

the gift...

the GIFT

of not only a skill I could master

but a talent I could cherish

and for you, grandma

I am grateful

then I also remember

the other grandmother

my nanny

who always made us

socks and mittens

for Christmas

even while the arthritis

in her hands

made it difficult

and before she had to stop

she would knit

and I never could figure out how

to knit

but my mother knows

 I am struck

by the passage of time

and the loss 

of so much

and I wish

that my daughter

wanted to learn

to crochet

but maybe

just maybe

I will be the grandma

who teaches her own

grand daughter

to crochet flowers

or toys

or something else

I HOPE

Grandmothers

{Post: 258/365}

thinking

about

grandmothers

missing them

remembering

the gifts

and treasures

they left behind

grandma

taught me 

to crochet

and that

nobody is perfect

and there is NOT

only one way

to do something

nanny

taught me

to love

and to nurture

and to improve my scrabble game

grandma 

showed me

courage

compassion

and patience

nanny 

showed me

intelligence

comfort

and faith

and I am grateful

for both

grandma

for a short time

nanny 

for a long time

and both 

gone now but

forever

living inside my heart

I Remember...

{Post: 341/365}

I remember...

flour sifted through a sifter

and baked into fresh loaves of bread

butter melting on top

to make a crispy crust

and the best baked bread I ever had

I remember...

scrabble tiles on a game board

spelling out good words

and getting close

but never quite winning

against your fine scrabble intellect 

I remember...

bed time snacks

of toast with peanut butter and brown sugar

or cup-of-soup in a mug

spoon taken out of the spoon jar

on the kitchen table

I remember...

sneaking into the garden

to pull out fresh carrots

rinsing the dirt with the garden hose

and munching the biggest and best

from grandpa's garden

I remember...

sharing my first cups of tea

with you and grandpa

his poured into the saucer to cool

and pantry molasses cookies

or other home-baked goodies for a snack

I remember...

running into the kitchen

looking for a spoon

to stir our witches brew or other concoctions

of sawdust, dirt, flowers and water

stirred into your good metal wash tub

I remember...

chasing and collecting frogs galore

into the same metal washtub

from the puddles in the front yard

after a warm summer rain

and frogs were a joy

I remember...

so many beautiful things

and none of them even half as beautiful

as you were to me

the sweetest lady i knew

my grandmother...my NAN (nanny)