them

for a minute today I think of them 

my grandmother whom I lost at 10, 

I carry her in my name, 

my grandfather whom I lost at 25

him I carry in a million little ways

in a song on the radio that we both loved 

looking large in my father's stories 

in a late night conversation with my husband 

every Jan and July 7

his last birthday celebrated with 3 grandkids and his soon to he grand son in law

my other grandfather, a shadowy figure from my past, but whom I carry in a very concrete way, in a handwritten prayer he wrote for me, before my yes the eve of my wedding, thst by some miracle I still had years later, that I learned to say at one of my lowest points, that I still give copies of to young ladies desperate like I was once, for a baby

and my grandmother, she whom I see in the contours of my mother's face, my daughter's and maybe one day, in mine

whom I remember every special day, for she would be first to call and wish us, on my birthday, anniversaries, kids" birthdays, the sage of wisdom whose passing is a gash in our lives so recent, we are still learning to live, without her,  sliwly healing, knowing she is above us

I carry a little of bit of these giants inside me, don't I? how blessed am I. and they live in my children though they know but one of them,

like an ancient tree whose seeds live on, they beat in our hearts, run in our blood, 

today i think of the four of them,

their courage, their stories of sorrow and joy, 

their mark in me

and I smile, holding them all in my cupped hands

for a minute.