What Really Matters: Poems About Love, Loss, & Trauma

Chapter 29: Tears for Grandmother's Passing

Introduction to the poem:

In this poem, I am reflecting upon a visit I had to my grandparents back when I was in college. I was going to school in the south but working up north. Halfway along the drive, my Grandmother and Granddaddy lived in Burlington, North Carolina. Of course, I was always welcome to see them.

On one particular visit, I had some extra time before I would start work up north. I felt a bit more relaxed because the work I was doing back then was not as challenging as my college studies. Every quarter I would alternate between classes at the Georgia Institute of Technology in Atlanta, Georgia.

I sat there in the chair next to the TV where they would sit when no one was visiting. Next to us was the dining area with the kitchen table where we ate. Grandmother had asked me to look around the house and tell her what I want... if and when she passes. I was only 21 and so thinking about things like this was hard.

Some heirloom or memento of something handed down. I meant no disrespect nor was I disinterested. I just thought and then said, "Okay, I'll think about that." I honestly believed I would have more time. Indeed, I don't think they died for some time after that.

I honestly couldn't think of what I wanted. The ideas that came to mind were big items. I am saying this despite having every expectation at the time that I could buy my own furniture and appliances someday. I suppose a washing machine wouldn't remind me of them and maybe many of the appliances would not last too long.

I looked at the stove and wondered "would the stove remind me of this visit or others like this and Grandmother showing so much concern and love for me in her own way?"

Hmm.

In retrospect, I can think of the bed that I would sleep in when I came to visit. The living room furniture had been around for a long time and that room held many memories. I just wasn't thinking of that at the time. I felt guilty later as if I didn't really care... but that's not accurate. I thought there would be more time. But when? When would I decide, "now I must make that decision?"

It never happened. The house and all its memories were gone before Grandmother died.

I could have just said, "this is what I want." Perhaps the wishes of my paternal grandparents would have been ignored anyway. If this was so important to Grandmother and Granddaddy, how would it not have occurred to anyone else that they would have cared about making sure that Bruce (that's me) got something of his choosing?

Something? Anything?

It's not about the material or financial value of these things. It was about the love... the love of a Grandmother and a Granddaddy.

Who would have thought that when Grandmother moved into a nursing home, I would be homeless and in need of a home? That's also not something you can imagine when you are so young and innocent. 

Unexpectedly following the loss of my first wife I was in dire straights and suffering from a very traumatic event. These poems about grief, trauma, loss, and the psychological impact of traumatic events reflect upon what happened so unexpectedly beginning in late 2000. 

If I had known what was coming...  

Here is the poem below.

Tears for Grandmother's Passing

I'm sorry Grandmother,
that I didn't give it more thought
when you asked me
to look around your home
at the years of accumulated items -
mementos, items handed down for generations -
Photographs and photo albums.

I don't know if I didn't realize in time
the importance of things like this
or if I thought there would be time later
for thinking of these things.
As a young adult,
we don't like thinking
of loss and death -
it seems unnatural.

I know you didn't intend for things
to go this way...
to just fade away,
dying in some nursing home
fading out of awareness over
those last years -
your awareness fading,
not recognizing your sons
and grandsons/granddaughters...
not aware that your husband
had died years earlier
and then your daughter
before you...
perhaps your lack of awareness
was good.

They said you would not have recognized me...
but that was their decision
to exclude me.
It would have hurt
me
but that would have been good and right.

Grandmother,
if you were aware,
if awareness is given
to the dead,
if time is not what it seems,
I'd mention
that I shed a tear for you,
today,
and I was
inspired...
and it's good
and this is right.