Grandma

We were sitting in the lobby of the optometrist, arguing about some hangers. 

After she was called into the office, a gentleman near me leaned over and said, "She sure is a firecracker!"

When was it that the fire started ebbing? 

When was it finally gone? 

Like a “fierce green fire dying in her eyes,” we let it, she let it, slip away.

“I’ll see you later,” I said, knowing there was no later. 

I couldn’t bring myself to say goodbye. 

I wish I’d known her when I was older and she was younger. 

I think I would have learned more, understood more. 

Maybe I wouldn’t have given her up so easily.