Core Memory
I wish I always knew
while they were happening
which moments
would mean something later
but spooning orange jello
into my frail grandfather’s
trembling mouth
as he slid toward sundown
glowed like a golden arrow:
This is important.
Save this for later.
Roll this in your mind
like a stone in your hand,
and let it fill your belly.
Remember how good it feels
to love and to be loved
to the end.
This reminds me so much of John 13:1, where Jesus washes the disciples' feet and loves them "to the very end."
I have to admit that whenever I read a poem about someone's grandparents, I brace myself for cliche, but you didn't slip into cliche at all (which I should have known by now that you wouldn't), probably due largely to the fact that you didn't idealize anything but still wrote such honesty with such beauty. What a moving tribute.
This is neither here nor there, but I also love your alliteration. "slid toward sundown" and "glowed like a golden arrow" are stirring.
Such a sweet memory. I was holding Gramma Riley’s hand when she died and will cling to the memory of someone who loved me. Love this poem.