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Ghosts of my heart...


These are the things you forget...
choosing a favourite colour
when a boy was just another person on the bus
you went to school with your head wrapped in your best friends scarf, it smelled of her cigarettes and perfume, and it made you brave
standing in line at the grocery store the very first time you bought your own groceries for your own fridge
meeting 'him'
the drive the name the number the events the words
the meaning
the love
the threat and the promises of growing up
of growing old
of being forgotten too



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My grandmother has Alzheimer's and sometimes I miss her so much.
Saying "Happy Birthday" and hearing it back, because I was born on her birthday.
Her home and homemade tarts.
The smell of the wood stove in the morning.
The gray rocking chair.
Knowing I had someone to go to, even if I never needed to.
Someone without demands. Her understanding.
Her love the most.

2 comments:

*fitcetera* said...

Andrea, your writing is all kinds of wonderful.

tena said...

This really touches my heart. I'm wishing for you all the love you desire. :)