Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Delia's Dream




Today's little poem is about my grandmother, who took me into her care when I was two years old and guided me until I was 18 ... when I went into military service ... and even beyond. I still feel that gentle hand in the small of my back.

Times were not just hard, but really tough, requiring frugality with those few material things which came her way. Still, those circumstances seemed to inspire in her an exceeding generosity.

She knew that others had needs greater than hers. She accepted the fact that her good works might be received without thanks.

And she didn't talk much about "those distant places," but I know she dreamed about them sometimes, especially those where her children were.

She did get to visit them, but she never got to be there, as she would say, never got to "pull up and settle down" there.

It was simply not to be. And she accepted that, too. How I love her, for all the things she taught me ... for all the butterflies she pointed out to me ... and paused to watch with me.

And now, the poem:

DELIA'S DREAM

How she'd say

nothing is ever lost,

meaning wasted,

pieces of string,

each carefully coiled,

or a rubber band

snapped around her wrist,

her good works received

without thanks,

and thoughts,

especially thoughts

of those distant places

where she dreamed things

were better, where she

hoped to be someday,

but never was.

© 1997

(originally published in Riverrun)

Today's word: guided

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

You stirred up feelings and brought a lump in my throat about your grandmother. People, in that era in the small towns and the country,could live their life the way it was, but no real expectancy of change. They must have wondered, though, if something else was out there, but without TV and fast national communication, that's all you could do was wonder. People don't realize that even the radio stations were full of static since they were from quite a distance. They not only felt stuck there, but they were.
What a difference the military made for the young folks! This, as usual, was a thought provoking poem.

Anonymous said...

Came across an article that reminded me of some of your commentaries about not being a morning person. I'm not a morning person, either.

Thought you might get a smile out of the artcle: 3 Smart Things About Sleeping Late http://www.wired.com/science/discoveries/magazine/17-01/st_3st