Jul 19, 2023
My grandma is dying
I look nothing like her
In her childhood pictures
She looks like my childhood best friend
Who died in March.
And all the people in these pictures
Her cow mollie, her mum, her dad
Her husband Kos.
They live in the pictures.
Remembered only by her.
Isn’t life strange?
That you have so much evidence of someone’s existence, yet still they stop existing.
Isn’t my Grandma pretty in black and white?
I’ve come to be quite like her;
Fierce and feisty,
Dependable and loyal,
Charming yet hot headed.
When I was little she called me her handbag, because I was always with her.
A part of me will always stay there.
Clutched close to her side.
Holding all her important things.
So many of her important things live with me.
