Iíve been living with my 7month old granddaughter, Elizabeth Anne, since she was born last June 2020. Through this pandemic, and after the loss of my son in 2019,
she has truly been a much needed ray of sunshine and hope.
Lizziebet, You Are My SunshineAt 5:30 I rise to greet a foggy morning.
The weight of gray is heavy and thick.
My body groans as I move from bed to kitchen.
Coffee plus bagel will fuel and oil this aging machine.
Carrying breakfast back to my bedroom
I pass through a landmine of scattered hazards
Discarded, no, planted, by a commando crew of one
Her DNA code, left on each object, signals my way through.
I place the coffee and bagel next to my bed
In order to plump up and adjust my pillows
So that I can sit up comfortably to eat breakfast,
Watch the morning news, and await the arrival of my Sunshine.
Her glorious self appears in her motherís arms at 6:00 a.m.
Glowing in her footed, one piece, floral zip-up sleeper
Sucking on a pacifier, and squinting her big brown eyes
As if her own radiance is somehow more than she can bear.
I take her into my arms and I am transformed
From stiff and grumpy to agile and full of joy!
The light she brings is an abundance of warm life
Bringing healing, health, and hope into each new day.
My Sunshine, my Lizziebet, the infant commando soldier
Who crawls across the carpet and drools wherever she goes
Who laughs at silly ďNanaď for making funny noises
Is the reason of my survival and the purpose of this love.
Poetry by Kathy Lockhart
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Written on 2021-02-17 at 18:21
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