I wasn’t sure about you at first
Wasn’t even sure
If we were related
Lies in my head
About the myth of the perfect family
Surrendered to beautiful
Exquisitely original
Outside the box truth.
When I held you on my lap
And fed you pureed apricots
And smelled your red hair,
It didn’t matter anymore
Whether you carried my genes.
And when I saw how carefully
Your not quite three year old hand
held the pen on the paper
to make intricate lines
almost like letters,
I knew who you were.
Now your quiet eyes haunt me
From so far away.
I long to sit with you
To read the storybooks
I’ve been saving for you,
To sing lullabies
And hear you call me
Nana.
September 16, 2015 at 11:57 am
Love is utterly disinterested in genetics. 🙂
September 16, 2015 at 12:00 pm
That’s for sure! 🙂
September 16, 2015 at 1:26 pm
Reblogged this on oshriradhekrishnabole.
September 16, 2015 at 1:40 pm
Thank you!
September 16, 2015 at 3:18 pm
So powerful…so full of love and longing, JoAnna….and by the way….I think JoAnna suits you ❤ ❤
September 16, 2015 at 4:01 pm
Thank you, Lorrie! ❤
September 17, 2015 at 1:29 am
Nanas are the best!
September 17, 2015 at 2:30 am
Never knew what a strong pull nanahood could be!
September 17, 2015 at 2:07 pm
I saw it when my parents became grandparents for the first time with our firstborn. I may get there myself some year or other, but, if it happens, it will most likely be very long distance.
September 17, 2015 at 9:27 pm
Good reason to travel!
September 18, 2015 at 12:47 am
A beautiful reflection on the true power of the modern family, which I think is teaching us to break up the old rules about where and how love works… and belongs…
Michael
September 18, 2015 at 3:18 pm
Yes, Michael. I’m being reminded that love belongs everywhere.