For My Granny
Mar 22, 2019
Story
For my Granny
I remember your soft skin
Like the fuzzy ripe raspberries
That always remind me of you
Your face leaning close
An island of safety
Amidst a scary childhood
Of torture and shame
Like the ring
Stuck on your finger
Because you had so often
Cracked your knuckles
Well worn circle of love
Amidst the pain
Embedded in those joints
Cracking
Cracking
Cracking
Over and over again
To keep you sane
Hiding in the cookie cupboard
A smell I will never forget
In there armidst the cookie tins
Full of raisin cinnamon soft sugar cookies
Making cookies together
With you
I invented my first cookie recipe
Chewy vanilla cookies
That you pretended were delicious
Safety in the sweetness
You managed to contain
In your kitchen
In stark contrast to the nights of pain
You were the one
Tender place in my childhood
I just wanted to stay
In your cookie cupboard forever
Whether you were conscious
Of what happened
To the children
Under your care
Or not
It has taken me 57 years
To receive your love
57 years to receive your soft touch
The only safe touch
I knew
As a child
So rare
So fleeting
I let it go moldy
Like the wild raspberries
Abandoned
On the outskirts of my garden
You kept a bowl
Of plastic grapes
In the entryway
To your home
I used to choose one
That I hoped wouldn't be missed
And suck on it
Feeling its suction on my tongue as it stuck fast
And popped off
You cracked your knuckles
As I chewed plastic fruit
Somehow we both
Made it through
You let me wear your
rich lady decoration
Your dead mink
Around my neck
A child's source of comfort
The only wildlife in my childhood
I liked the way
Its teeth bit its tail
In front of my heart
And stuck fast
As I chewed my plastic grapes
And wandered aimlessly about the empty house
You gave me peanuts to feed the squirrels
Who ran up onto the porch railing
To eat from my hand
We walked to the corner store together
There you got me candy
And we visited the poodles at another old woman's house
On the way back
I felt most at home in your garden
Where you tended your lovely Phlox flowers
The scent of those flowers and the smell of your cookie cupboard will always remind me of you
If you could've done something to stop them
I truly believe
You would have
But either you didn't know (denial)
Or you could not imagine what to do (truth)
Except bake cookies
You are my ancestor now
I can claim you
As I chew
On this leftover raspberry seed
Stuck in a back tooth
I believe
I will plant it for you