POEM- Grandma: the Patient in 132
- Zoralei Boysen
- May 17, 2019
- 2 min read
This is a working poem. I wanted to write it down now, so I could honor her memory. She was a beautiful, kind, smart, feisty, and generous woman. I miss her every day.

My first trip without my parents.
Once I stepped off the plane, I felt big.
Three minutes later, I felt terrified and alone.
Two figures walked up to me. The woman took
One of my hands and squeezed it
Three times and exclaimed, “I love you.”
To the rhythm of the hand pumps,
Once again making me feel safe.
Three theme parks,
In two weeks, sacrifices she makes for me.
As she sat down, grandma handed me a bowl,
"Wonderful!" I exclaimed looking down at the
Three scoops of chocolate ice cream
Together all is right.
Once more we play a word puzzle game. A
Three letter word ending in Q? impossible you’d think. Well maybe
To you. S... U... Q. I
Won again. “Well you only had
Three more points than I” she smirked.
“Touché,” I smiled back.
Graduation was here.
One special day long awaited
Three family members from
Two states away came to witness. She gave me
One band, inscribed with
Three letters: CTR, banked by
Two stones. A gift to remind me of the
One, to whom I’ve devoted my life. Given at
Three pm before my biggest accomplishment from the
Two people who have always supported me.
We sit at her kitchen table over a map.
“One highway, connecting our
Three households brings Solace
To my heart," she comments. I roll my eyes
One day I would understand. When at
Three PM I am rushing to their home
To see her for the last time. driving on that
One highway. Just
Three more hours
Tomorrow she will be gone
We beg for more time. Plagued by thoughts of the
One more letter we could have written,
Three more ‘I love you's’ we could have uttered,
Two more phone calls we never made. Now, all we get is
One more hand squeeze
Three more breaths
Two more heartbeats
And then the memory of the woman more than a patient in
132






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