Sister’s teeth marks on the edge of the coffee table

Rooms brimming with impulse QVC purchases of single-function kitchen utensils

Kraft Singles in the fridge

Casper the Friendly Ghost in the VCR

Ornate jewelry decorating every inch of her

 

When I think of her I think white

White couches, white curly hair, white pantsuit in the only photo I have of her

Slight white of the Scotch tape holding it all together at Christmas

 

When they think of grandmothers they think baking

I’m not sure she ever baked

 

But I remember sitting in the pantry on the phone with Mom

Right at the cusp where kids start to understand what death really means

Surrounded by canned goods

Nonperishable

Holding it all together

 

I still imagine her choking and losing air

The most life experience she’d ever had, but the most helpless she’d ever been

 

Mom marked the date on her wall calendar

As if she could possibly forget

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This post is part of the A-Z Challenge. My theme is April Scribble, which includes microfiction, small vignettes, and poetry.

For more alphabetical goodness, click here.