My Grandma Is My Grandma

• by Abigail S of Brookings

Hello! My name is Abbey.
I live in a family of six.
Grandma has come to live with us
And has created quite a mix.

She has Alzheimer’s disease,
Which means her memory is so poor,
But she tries so hard to please,
You couldn’t ask for more.

Her name is Hasmig,
Which means Jasmine flower.
Her parents spoke a foreign tongue,
And she tells us this every hour.

She was an only child,
Isolated and alone.
She now lives with us
And doesn’t ever moan.

Cinammon is the dog’s name.
With her to our house he came.
He is old and grumpy.
He does not play and is not jumpy.

Grandma likes work that we do not,
And we often find her cleaning a pot,
Straightening and stacking and folding all day,
But where things are, we never can say.

Puzzles, reading, music, and walks
Bring happy moments and good talks.

Our bad times are when she is confused and depressed,
Repeating over and over the same request.
“Where’s my purse?” “Where’s my doggy?”
Where’s the salt?” “Gee, it’s foggy.”

Lightening and dark give her scares
and at my brother she often glares.

She flirts with all the me she meets
When she goes to the senior center once a week.

Life with Grandma has its ups and downs,
But in the end she brings us wonderful sounds,
And our love for her knows no bounds.

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