My grandma dropped out of school in the second grade. Things were different back then. But one day, when women finally began to gain rights and when my grandmother finally began to gain the courage to unlock the chains that pulled her down from liberation my grandmother decided to take the GED test. I had… Continue reading For Grandma.
She was carried down to the earth on the sun on a summer day in May. And she was carried up to heaven on the moon on a cold, dark, night. She appeared in my dream one night, adorned in a purple dress, eating an orange Creamsicle. She birthed thirteen children, six boys and seven… Continue reading Grandma Faye.
She liked her coffee black Black like the curly locks that drape around her head. Black like the timeless, smooth, skin that hugs her bones. She was born in the thirties. And died in the nineties. She couldn’t get an education, so she made sure her three children did. She was born in Texas. And… Continue reading Grandma Amie.
