Yahrzeit, for my Grandma, sorry it's a few days late.
by
martingreene
07/07/2009, 2:33 PM #
Yahrzeit
They called me at school.
Grandma had died
at the nursing home.
They said she had
died in her sleep.
The last time I visited her,
they had velcroed her into a wheel chair.
They always die in their sleep.
The last time I saw her at home,
my parents' home, on the sunny terrace,
she said "I'm no good, I'm no good anymore."
I told her I loved her, and said
“Look how we’re talking. You're better than
Good,” I said, "You're my grandma.”
They had to put her into the home.
She had fallen in the bathroom,
they had found her on the floor,
they could not lift her,
they had no choice,
my parents.
They never last long when they
are sent away.
The place smelled of tomato soup
and urine.
“How often do they get bathed?”
“They are just fine here.
Don't you worry.”
On June 28, I don't know the
Jewish day, I don't even care,
I light a candle that comes
In a nice little glass.
Sometimes I have a drink in
the little glass I last used
to remember my grandma, who
died on June 28, 1973,
of natural causes.
Martin Greene, c 2/18/02
