Reflections of a Grandmother
A Poem by
by Linda L. Rigsbee
All the things we treasured so much in our youth,
Loose their importance as we savor the truth.
Our autumn years are raked into golden piles
Of memories, like hills and valleys for miles.
The heady excitement of our first true love.
The first comprehension of heaven above.
The unconditional love in grandma’s smile.
The sweet healthy wail of our firstborn child.
The first lover’s quarrel, the end of living.
The first humbling steps of truly forgiving.
The first shot for baby and how hard he cried.
The numb final time we told grandma goodbye.
The first day our youngest child started school.
The irrational tears we struggled to cool.
The last school prom and the graduation pride.
The vows, the photos of our son and his bride.
The day the name “grandma” was stapled on new.
The loss of our mother – we’re getting old too.
The things we once could but no longer can do.
The things we should do while we still have a clue.
The adoring look in our grandbaby’s eyes.
The first comprehension of how the time flies.
The day that “grandma” becomes precious and dear.
The hope that “great grandma” will be the next we hear.
