Those Tender Moments

February will be a year since you left us. As I rummage through old notes this evening, I ran across this one, when I visited you almost a year ago. Closing my eyes for a moment, I savor a time in the past. I sat beside you holding your frail thin skinned hand, while we…

Her People

I’m a foreigner, though, I call her grandma. I sit with her, feed her, hold her hand, calm her, take walks with her, and used to care for her. But, my face will never be familiar and though my presence may be enough, it will never fully be comforting. She wants you, her people. You,…