Grandmother Ryan

By Andrew R. Duckworth

I’ll never forget her phrases-
“Oh, fiddlesticks!” With a little
Smirk that said “I’m not mad.”
She was more than the wrinkles,
More than the small crooked frame,
More than the constant smile
That made the room a bit lighter,
Even in heavier times. There was
A raspiness to her voice, her
Teeth dyed from the coffee and
Cigarettes from earlier in life,
Hair so gray it was lavender.
She led us to Mass every Sunday,
Led the whole family to the
Dinner table every holiday,
Was a present staple holding
Pages together.

Nowadays, the staple isn’t there,
Family having to write our own
Pages, determine our own staples,
Be the staple, Keep the dinner
Table set and ready.