On Missing My Grandmother as She Used to Be
A poem
It is days like today that I miss her
that I long for tea and toast
in my grandmother’s kitchen
But it’s the missing you feel
of something that was long gone
a moment you can’t live again
I remember a woman that hadn’t
existed for years
the reality was a rushed coffee
every three months with her and her excuses
some version of
I don’t have much time these days
Time — that’s the center of it
where all the roads of my memory lead
How I thought there might still be years
How I thought she might make some time
for me to sit in her kitchen once more
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Grace Moore is a writer from Washington. She writes fiction, creative nonfiction, and the occasional poem. She also writes articles on travel, mental health, writing, and books. Sometimes she’s funny, or at least that’s what her mom says. Follow her on Instagram @gracieawriter.
