Bertha (JCH -- 9/95)
my grandmother made the best scrambled eggs
I wish I had learned her secret before she went crazy
and the Jewish men started singing Baptist hymnals
building the radio station underneath her bathroom floor
and the black hand came out of the sink
and took the knife right from her hand

grandma was always rather eccentric
daddy liked to call her a “tough old bird”
she liked to sit in her chair,
watch wrestling and cuss at Reagan
and tell stories of the Yankees in their hey-day
and I listened,
but not like I should have

the alziemers took the life right out of her
oh, the doctors never gave a firm diagnosis
content to blame her mental deterioration on old age
but inside we all know what it was;
it broke my heart to see her in the hospital
that wasn’t my grandma
but only a shell of the vibrant woman
she once was

that day when the phone rang
early in the morning, somehow I knew
I knew she was in a better place--
away from the pain
and the confusion

and though it hurt
to let her go
I did

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