My grandmother is an amazing woman. She is witty, well-read, makes the best cookies, and, above all, has the biggest heart. We bond over our favorite “Glee” characters and book recommendations. Sure, she struggles with technology once in a while, but trust me, she’s not like regular grandmas – she’s a cool grandma. I am so grateful for her love and guidance in life.
It is true that with age comes wisdom, but my grandma has always been very wise. Everyone in my family knows that when Grandma says something, it’s correct. She not only has a sharp memory but also excellent judgment.
I wrote this poem a little over a year ago about my grandmother’s seemingly prophetic abilities. When I was doubting where my life path would take me, she always had faith in me and knew I would happily follow my passion.
Mother’s Mother’s Hand
Grandma says
She knows my future,
And grandmas never lie.
The minutes
are passing,
And I think
Maybe she’s right.
I don’t know
who I’ll become,
or where I’ll be
When someone is
waiting up for me.
Maybe it’s not
the right choice, or
It’s all part
of some grander plan.
But I choose to live
by the fate of
my mother’s mother’s hand.
Mothers and grandmothers are so special to us daughters and granddaughters because, over the years, they have gained maternal insight into the world — a keen ability to pick up on things others never notice. Perhaps this is why kids constantly shout “Mom!” and never “Dad!” when they want fast, direct answers. No matter how great dads and grandfathers are, at the end of the day, they cannot replicate this feminine intellect. Mothers and grandmothers love the hardest and work even harder. Without them, the men of the world would be in shambles.
This poem is for my grandma and all the other grandmothers, nanas, memaws, or gam gams out there who make the world a softer, kinder place. Thank you.
Featured image via Manny Becerra on Unsplash
