The poem, “Gramma’s Apron”, was written at the request of a little girl who had recently lost her grandmother to cancer after a long and difficult battle.
Before I started writing, I asked her to tell me about her gramma. One thing that stood out was the love in her voice when she described the special apron her gramma always wore.
I captured as much as I could from the many things she shared with me. Here is the finished poem, as always, from a child’s point of view.
For Amity … with love.
Gramma's Apron
by C.J. Heck
Gramma's gone, but not forgotten.
That's her apron hanging, there.
It still hangs in Grampa's kitchen.
Sometimes he looks at it and stares.
When Gramma wore her apron
it was magical to me.
The pockets held such treasures
for the grandkids just like me.
I saw it shine up Grampa's fender once,
just as pretty as you please,
and it wiped my brother's cheek off
one time when he sneezed.
It took cookies from the oven,
it rushed to wipe a tear,
it got a grain of sand out of my eye,
and made a lap for the stories we'd hear.
It wiped spills up from the counter top
when she was baking pies.
A symbol of her love and care
and it showed, too, in her eyes.
Sometimes I'm sad to look at it
when I see my Grampa stare.
Gramma's gone, but not forgotten.
That's her apron hanging, there.
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Tender sweet and loving ,is Grandmas apron . Smelling all she is cooking up in heaven . Great poem C J . hugs and love to you and family
Substack needs more poetry like this, with rhyme and meter, even if relaxed a bit. Easy and delightful to read. Thank you.