and the lilacs drank the water

my paternal grandpa’s mother is one of the ones i know nothing about. all i know is that whatever was going on in that home was so rough it drove my grandpa to start smoking cigarettes at age eight. all i can say is i’m grateful she had my grandpa- a shy man who loved dancing, huge servings of chocolate ice cream, and singing the song brown eyed girl to all his granddaughters.

my maternal grandpa’s mother came to the US on a boat from ireland while she was pregnant. there’s one picture of her that i’ve seen- a woman with very dark hair, dark eyes, and prominent eyebrows. i don’t know anything about her personality, but that’s brave to make a cross-ocean trip while expecting. my eyes are pupil-brown and i think she’s who i get them from.

my maternal grandma’s mother forever exists in my memory in summers in rural ontario. she was quiet but so sweet. she met my great grandfather while she was working at a heinz factory. i love to joke that without ketchup i wouldn’t exist. my coworker says i should get a tomato tattoo.