family / stories / Uncategorized

Twillia

My grandmother came

from a family of girls

lending beauty and eloquence

to the somber Texas plains

Georgia people

headed westward

after the Civil War

escaping the ragged destruction

misplaced ideals

You can farm Texas

with a blessing and a blue moon

if seasons cooperate

instead of conspire

No help for her father

six girls there

then brokenhearted

they buried one sister

She went to school

studied Latin

made As

church on Wednesday evenings

One night, horse balked

her father, tight lipped

mountain lion in the trees

shrill scream shattered the night

ready to pounce

heart in her throat

horses full throttle

She became a wife

a disinterested cook

but she could make

warm English custard

blackberry jam

played with her blonde grand-daughters

expanded their hearts

expanded their minds

Sent her only two boys

off to World War II

hesitant patriot she was

giving all she had

Stored her trinkets sent from Japan

in a large two-door chifferobe

kept cards from her sons

wrapped them in love and tissue paper

always had a pitcher of ice cold well water

slightly sweet

Evening supper

around large oval table

kitchen at the heart of the house

listened to a small radio

every evening

TV was for youngsters

Quoted a small poem

about loving big or little

Worked side by side on the farm

lost part of her heart –

one son gone

Alone most of the time

kept her beauty

and quiet dignity

until taken from this life

my reluctant hand

leaving hers…

Twillia and GDad

 

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19 thoughts on “Twillia

  1. What a special tribute! I am amazed that you could put so much history into a poem – well done! The story reminds me of my own grandmother – “kept her beauty and quiet dignity.”

  2. Such fond memories of Aunt Twillia’s place. A lot of fun times there. She was very kind woman. Loved her😊

  3. Pingback: Lacrimi de înger – Angel tears | look around!

  4. You have found a different and sweetly sad way to tell your dear grandmother’s tale of love for her sisters, sons and granddaughters. It had a lot of sorrow in one strong and beautiful woman’s life, Lana.
    I am glad you held her hand until the end. May she have spent years with those loved ones in the miracle that is called, heaven. ❤

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