Nelma

The sizzle of hamburger hitting the hot pan. The scent of cigarette smoke drifting through the tiny mobile home. The creak of the linoleum floor with her shuffling gait. Her frizzy fine white hair above twinkling hazel eyes and craggy wrinkled skin. Her nods and smiles as she listens to all my after school stories. My words, never rushed or hurried or pushed aside. She listens to me with all her might and keeps the door always open. In that tiny space, she creates a haven for a lonely girl with a million things to say. My Grandma, my best friend, my fiercest defender.

Her life a struggle, from beginning to end, inspires her love of poetry and writing. She hands this love down to me, hours without end.

She will never be forgotten, and our stories will never end.