I wrote the following poem more than 40 years ago. I was 19, in college, and my maternal grandmother had mentioned to me how much she would love to see Jones Beach one last time before she died. To honor her wishes, a few weeks later, on a warm, sunny, Fall afternoon in 1973, I drove her to the beach.
As she watched wave after wave powerfully crash, unapologetically, upon the shore, I observed her closely and saw her transform before my very eyes, as if a time machine had whisked her back to her youth…to her childhood…to a long ago time…before life had beaten her up and robbed her of all her dreams.
On Mother’s Day 2016, I once again dedicate this poem to her, and to all of those brave women who came before us. They did what they had to do…not always what they wanted to do. They did what the mores, laws, dogma, and economics of those times dictated they do.
We are their living legacy. As we search for truth, may we serve them well.
For My Finnish Grandmother
Lone grey woman
Worn and tired
Staring at the ocean tides
Wondering if this will be the last time
Watching these waters flow.
The handful of sand
She holds tightly to
Still seeps through
And still
She smiles
Knowing within her lies
the soul of a newborn child.
Lone grey woman
Workhorse of the world
Lies still smiling
Still dying
Still very much alive.
Cindi Sansone-Braff, The Romance Whisperer, talks to the dead to show you how to live well and love better. She is an award-winning playwright and has a BFA in theatre from the University of Connecticut. She is the author of Grant Me a Higher Love and Why Good People Can’t Leave Bad Relationships. Visit her web site at:wwwgrantmeahigherlove.com.