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.