Poem of the Day 3.21.17

To My Grammy


“My name is Lizzie.”
I tell you because you don’t remember.

And it breaks me in two
to think about all the costumes you made me that I outgrew;
there are so many things I want to tell you…

I’m so sorry you grew up in a world of female oppression,
and in a family that valued Catholicism over expression,
and that you learned how to scrimp in the Great Depression,
that your left hand was slapped until you used the right and learned your lesson.

I’m so sorry that you didn’t get to retire in Florida,
and that when I went to college I never called you,
because in my mind you were Resolute.

A Pillar.

That would be carefully watching me play jump rope in the yard

I’m so sorry your husband chose substances over you,
and that your children only come by every month or two.
My dad said he learned coldness from you,
but I can’t believe that’s true.

How could could cold be so warm to me?
How could you give me so much life and energy?

I think he learned it from his father
but boys will be boys,
so he blames his own mother.

I’m so sorry for this life and what it took;
that everyday for you is a mystery to be solved,
staring at the same pieces not fitting together.

You were Resolute.
A Pillar.
But even Rome fell…

There are so many things I want to say to you.
But I tell you because you don’t remember:
“My name is Lizzie.”

-Liz Loughran

Me, sitting on my Grammy’s stairs in the Cinderella skirt she sewed for me.



**I wrote this poem yesterday and read it at Open Mic Night. It was raw and emotional and could probably be better, but I love its jagged edges. I love that I let myself be this vulnerable to a room full of strangers. I love that in grief I touched people enough to come up and let me know my words meant something to them. 

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