My Grandma’s Youth


I remember a night, nearly 30 years ago,
Sitting in front of the hearth, the flame an orange glow,
And the fragrance of my Grandma’s Chanel no. 5,
A most common scent in the atmosphere.

My grandma inhaled, unweaved her fingers,
And with a smile asked me a question,
“What do you want most in life?”
Her words echoed in my mind.

I thought and turned around to face her.
“I want to make it through high school,
And I want to move out.
I want to make it to college,
And make my parents proud.”
My grandma smiled and nodded, silent.

“What is it?” I asked. “Why don’t you speak?”
“What you want is good, of course. You must succeed.” She said.
Her smile seemed suspicious, and I shook my head,
“I just want high school to end, so I can become an adult.”
Grandma then turned her own head.

She grinned with ease,
“Your dreams for yourself, are my hopes for you,
But what you mustn’t do is want your future so soon.
Don’t worry, it’ll all happen,
But my dear, don’t wish away your youth,
Because the happiest moments of my life,
Were when was young, just like you.”

I nodded my head slowly, and wiped away a sudden tear,
“The best part of my youth was my mother,” my Grandma told me,
“And because I didn’t want to grow up,
My time with her was forever.”

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