Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Over the Hill


Hands worn
Legs bowed
Eyes dim
My grandmother sat quite still

I smiled
And she
Did say
“I’m not quite over the hill”

We laughed
And kissed
I knew
She was in me, good and ill

Feisty
So firm
And true
Each goodbye a bitter pill

Would I
Be strong
Like her
When deaths call came shrill

Image from www.thegirlintightshoe.wordpress.com

18 comments:

  1. Since she is in you, it may be so. I hope--I'm sure--you celebrated together.

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  2. Oh how I resonate with this poem. I sat beside my grandmother for so many hours in her last years, as she slowly took her leave, her will first but her strong heart still beating.........it was a privilege to be there when she made her transition, and I have no fear - I know it will be the same for me. At such a time, the body goes on automatic pilot, and the will surrenders to What Is.

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  3. p.s. Thanks for your lovely comment on my poem, Old Egg.......it means a lot to me.

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  4. I wrote about my grandmother too. They seem to have been a great influence on our lives and will remain with us until the end.

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  5. wish we could all be as resolute when the uphill journey comes to an end.....I like the form and the rhythm of the lines...

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  6. I like what you have garnered from her. What a warm piece, felt like whispering it out.

    You are such a supportive, faithful friend.

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  7. I considered it a great privilege to be able to travel to visit my grandmother each year in the final years before she passed. She was the last survivor of nine siblings and although I know it must have weighed on her, she was raised in an era when one handled such unpleasantness with grace. If I age with half her grace I'll have done well.

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  8. The image and words are so solid and sure..like foundations passed on..i think a person can be strong and sacred...maybe thats' what keeps us going in a way

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  9. Such a nice sentiment, knowing you carry your ancestors. Yes you should be that strong to.

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  10. Great tribute-One is lucky to have respected elders living together...they give tremendous love support guidance and the strength of character.

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  11. Aging is the pits. Don't mind getting old but frail? No.

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    Replies
    1. You've given us two painful truths there.

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  12. How sweet, if we were lucky we had that same Grandmother, and I miss her still today.

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  13. nice piece on facing our own demise, and recognizing the grace that our loved ones have had in doing so themselves.

    BTW - it's "death's call" (not deaths call). Randy

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  14. This is wonderful! It never ceases to amaze me that each of us is a conglomeration of our ancestors yet still unique. Your grandmother was lovely by the way.

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