This poem has been published in Braided Cord by Liz Kulp |
And I really did my best
My mom left home without me
And my dad was put to the test
My father is a woodworker
Like my grandfather before
And my uncle asked my daddy
To make the box for grandpa to soar
And so I went to my friend’s house
And had a really good time
I missed the mortuary
So I wouldn’t stand in line
I called upon my mother
who was busy as can be
Writing up the remembrances
and an obituary
I asked her to please come home
And do my pretty hair
I wanted my sweet Grandpapa to
Really know I cared.
But she said I’m sorry darling
I can’t come home tonight.
I am sleeping with your Grandma
Go to bed, turn out the lights
I went downstairs the best I could
It was actually time for meds
I could feel my hands shaking
But decided not to go to bed
Instead I stayed up fixingAnd fixing my pretty hair
And nothing seemed to be working
As I thought of grandpa
A way up there.
In a mighty fit of frustration
I pulled out and then redid
Only to see in the morning
There were bald spots on my head
I picked my clothes out carefully
Something grandpa would care
A bright red shirt and blue jeans
And barrettes for my hair
I worked til’ almost morning
The sun was about to rise
I took my medication and
Closed my pretty eyes
I didn’t hear the alarm clock
Dad jumped me out of bed
We’re leaving in five minutes
Was all I heard he said.
I grabbed the red shirt I’d chosen
I jumped into my jeans
This wasn’t how I wanted it
I hate being me.
I wanted to look pretty
I wanted to do my best
Instead I went overmedicated
And looked a sorry mess
The red shirt I was wearing
Looked like a club night
And the jeans I jumped into
Were not at all right.
The medication was humming
As we pulled quickly away
And I could tell inside myself
It was going to be a terrible day.
I did my best to be happy
I forgot my morning meds
I wanted to show everyone
How hard I’d worked to be
My very best.
We missed the visitation
We almost missed the church
I missed the long progression
That headed with the hearse
I missed the soldiers shooting
I missed putting grandpa in his grave
I finally understood this was not a very good way
I wanted to hold my mother
Who was busy for her dad
I wanted to hug my family
Who seemed sometimes happy sometimes sad
I didn’t eat a breakfast, and I forgot a snack
I even forgot the medication that I usually pack
I called my dad to say sorry
I tried really hard to be nice
But it got really obvious
People were looking at me twice.
My Auntie told be about the rose
Thar laid upon the stone
And I went to say goodbye to grandpa
When I was alone.
I looked upon each stone I saw
Holding eagles, plaques and pain
Not one stone held the rose
I felt I was insane
I went back home to tell them
That it was no longer there
My Auntie said go back again
And look down and stare
The rose will have grandpa’s name
I really know you care
I watched my feet a walking
And the rose still had it’s stick
But the stone they had told me to find
Was actually a brick.
She’s 22, I overhead
She’s able to behave
She’s doing drugs another said
My grandpa in the grave
I ran away to grandpa who was watching way up high
And I marched around the little town trying not to cry
Lost and scared and empty
My Auntie took me in
And we journeyed to the jail house
To prove I didn’t sin
I looked into the mirror
At my face when I can home
And I soon discovered I was not alone
My mother saw the bare spots that covered over my head
And I went into the bedroom to get my pretty shirt of red.
I held it up before her and I looked into her eyes
And we finally held each other
And she finally cried
And I told her that I loved her
And I said it was too bad
And I told her I love daddy
Who is my real dad
And I told her not to worry
Because I knew something true
That Grandpa saw me for who I was
And that she did too
She showed me the spent chamber they shot for grandpa today
Grandpa knows I’m a good girl, was all that I could say.
4 comments:
Jodee -
I'm so sorry about your Grandpa, and sorry the day didn't go well for you. I hope you can focus on your memories of good times with him, instead.
Jodee, I am so sorry for your family's loss. When my dad died 2 years ago, Marissa had trouble too. She had trouble with the social requirements that go along with all the relatives coming by... she had trouble with the long receiving line at his viewing... and, she was grieving. She loved my dad.
Your poems brought back so many memories that I had tears in my eyes. Much love to you and your family ~
Oh Jodee, Love and hugs to you and Liz. ~Kari
What a beautiful poem - it brought tears to my eyes. Our hearts go out to you.
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