Papa and Ann

ODE TO PAPA

By Sara L. Broers Brown

July 2, 2009

Papa, Papa,
Your garden keep
Irises, roses, veggies
Let’s eat!

Rows of strawberries
Garden snakes keep.
Papa, Papa,
Teach me garden’s keep.

Build a birdhouse,
And oil my car.
Run a business,
And, antique cars.

Swing your lady,
On Fourth of July.
Do -see- do,
Stepping high.
To my Papa

I hear you now,
Call me soon,
Heaven’s phone.

“No tears my child,
I am calm.
I will greet you,
When you come.

And, find me sittin’

Here at my home.

I love my children,
All as one.”

Amen, my Papa
Amen and peace.
See you later,
And rest in peace.

I wrote this poem after my grandfather died last year.  It was easy as I sat on my porch in a chemo-induced stooper.  The drugs of the therapy left my body weak and my mind often confused.  But, my brain had wonderful room to create as I often sat in silence, too weak to do anything else.
  After my grandmother died last week, I tried to find my silent moments to write a poem for her.  But, my head was clouded.  The over-cast skies only allowed me to see an image of large white snow flakes failing up around irises.  My grandmother came to me in a vision but did not speak a voice.
  She has risen on to what is next.  My grandfather spoke to me these past 15 months.  I heard his voice as I wrote this poem, as I sat at home thinking about my family who attended the memorial and funeral, and when I felt afraid I would die too soon.  He spoke to me and sat as I made my achy chemo-heavy bones walk up the road to see the summer sun set over Long's Peak.  He spoke to his wife too, and he waited.
  When she was ready.  Well, maybe not totally ready, but her body was done, she left our Earthly beings holding hands with her husband.  She left.  She did not linger.  So she showed me a vision.
  I tried to write a poem for the funeral today.  But, there weren't words.  So I thought all night last night about what I remember about this woman I called Grandma and who called me her little doll baby.

Vanilla and 7-up floats in pewter mugs with glass bottoms.
Love in the Pan and when she mailed me the recipe when I was in my first apartment so I could make it on my own.
Green bean casserole with those crisp onion things on top.
Turkey and those candied yams I thought looked totally gross with the marshmallows on them.
Dinner at 2 pm with everyone including any "lost sheep" looking for a place to eat.
Two or three card tables stuck on the end of the dining table and stretching out through the living room so we could all eat at the same table.
Leftovers, even if it was just one bite left, it was put in a bowl with Saran wrap over it.
Waffles with honey and cheese toast.
Cleaning up after every meal.
Deciding we were all done cleaning up for the night and sitting at the bar to watch Ann continue to scrub the counters and floor for another good two hours before she decided she was done.
She was always the last to go to bed wrapping her hair in toilet paper.  I never did quite understand what the toilet paper was all about.  I think it was to keep her curls from being crushed.
She got her hair done once a week.
J.C.Penny's.  If you didn't like your Christmas present, we knew she got it from Penny's because she worked there many, many years and got a discount.
Pink.  She loved pink, and she loved buying her doll babies pink.  I hated pink when I was little...little rebel.
Pearls.  She always bought my sister and I jewelry with pearls, from Penny's.
Cushions in the driver's seat because she was only 4' 9".  They had the Oldsmobile with a bench front seat.  I always thought it was so funny that the driver's side half was pulled forward more then the rest of the seat.  It was navy blue.
Square dancing.  I loved her fluffy skirts and watching her and Papa turn on the floor.
PCA picnic.  What does that stand for again, Dad?  Carnival rides, cotton candy, square dancing, battle of the bands, and getting to stay up extra late.
Houseplants and gardens.  They were always growing stuff.
Sledding down the deep back hill and ending up in the creek (said with a Kansan short e, of course.)
Dressing up in the hundreds of my aunts' dance costumes and making up plays with the cousins in the basement.  Putting on the Nativity for Christmas for the parents.  I was always Mary.
Grandma giving us girls a bath and getting mad when the boy cousins were teasing us.
Hummels, coins, miniature iron figurines in a shadow box, photographs of the grand kids, birds, bird feeders, olive green, bright yellow, cream, and his and her chairs.

When she was excited, she jumped up and down. And, when she had a good hand of cards or rack of dominoes, she wiggled in her seat. But, her 'tell' wasn't a handicap as she almost always had the winning hand.

Ann cried all the time because she was happy, sad, frustrated, or mad.  I do that too.  She cried the moment she saw us pull in the drive way.  And, she cried as we pulled away to go home.

I could go on and on.  Yes, there were many memories at the Broers' in Eudora, Kansas.  I only hope that my own nephews and my own kiddos develop such fond memories of their Broers grandparents.