The oldest of 14
Meant that you helped raise
Or raised
The next 13
Your daddy stole the money that you saved
Working at the neighbors farm
He took the lipstick you had hidden
He smashed it into pieces
A baby raising babies that weren’t your babies
You left the one room school house in LaGrange by grade 8
You always wanted to finish your education
But it always felt too late
Pregnant at 14, married at 15
whisked away to that farm in Hillsboro Ohio
You cried for Kentucky
For the holler, you were hollow
The tears stopped and while papaw was away
You defied every rule and taught yourself how to drive, how to shoot, and then how to drag race
In 95 you met your daughters daughter, she had your green eyes
And you were always a little worried about the size of her forehead
Age 4 I’d toddle through your front door
6 in the morning, mom was off to work
You’d wrap me in a blanket that you’d warmed in the dryer
Go back to sleep baby
I think If I could have one more nap in your covers
I’d forget what it means to be tired
Ages 5-9 I watched your every move
Making biscuits and gravy
Always taking some to the neighbors
Your kitchen table never ran out of room
When I was 10 you moved in, and your body was slowly claimed by the reaper we called Lou
5 years I watched you suffer
There was a walker,
Then a wheelchair
My mother sat next to you holding a spoon
You refused to take a bite, and said “you eat first. It’ll be cold too soon.”
That’s who you were
A life bookended by hardship, enduring immeasurable loss and grief between
5 years a slow, wretched death
I heard you complain not once
Not about the pain, nor helplessness
Your circumstances made no difference in your patience, your gentle hand
or the shelter you offered to others, when the rain was just, so relentless
Wherever you are now, know that your daughter’s daughter
With your green eyes
Did all of the things you hoped she’d do
She came home to Kentucky and spends her days, trying her damndest to be
Just. Like. You.
