Mom loved music.  The stereo or classical radio was always playing when I was a child.  I took piano lessons through elementary and junior high.  One of my teachers was from Julliard.

Fur Elise was a favorite of my mother.  I played it countless times, and mastered it so well even the perfectionist teacher who would howl at wrong notes was pleased.

Everywhere I look, there are memories.
Each place I look,
My Grandma
was there.
Out the window, grass so green, sun so strong that
The world glistens --
Road,
Lawn,
Leaves --
It's all
Like when Grandma and I played catch
In my backyard.
Grandma on a sunchair,
Off to the corner of the yard --
Left
If you're facing it.
Near the driveway,
Under the tree,
Shaded,
Before a backdrop of flowers.
I threw the ball --
Small ball, I can only guess what type.
Grandma caught it,
Caught it, then threw the ball
To me.
Throw, catch, throw, catch, throw, catch,
Miss.
Try again.
And the rocking chair,
Now darkened from her aide's pants at the shivah,
So white all my Grandma's life.
She sat in it in April
at the Passover seder.
Cousins' noises all around,
Chatter,
Even a toddler,
Was Grandma wearing her sweater-type outfit?
With the purple triangles?
I know it was cold.
I stood by Grandma's side.
She pointed out my top --
"I like the flowers,
Did you make them?"
"Thanks, but no. I bought it like that."
She points, perhaps.
"Pretty."
"Thanks, I like your dress too."

I know my quotes must be somewhat off,
And was that when Grandma pointed?
Who cares?
The love was there.
I was by Grandma's side,
And we were
Glad.
Then there's the "Quotable Woman" book, and on and on.
My birthday.
I was turning fourteen.
Alzheimer's, but Grandma read the quotes,
loved them,
Read them with me, I believe.
Surely looked at the pictures.
Gave me the book.
So many quotes in there remind me of
Grandma.
Personality-wise,
Relationship-wise.
Even my rabbit,
Typically disliked, I love
For my grandma's interest in her.
Grandma petted his head,
Surprising.

As it was,
My parents' bedroom,
Where I was changing,
When Grandma walked in.
Horrifying at the time,
Now good --
A memory.
And perhaps most of all,
My home's front door,
Which tells the story of changing times.
Early on, it was
White.
Grandma entered
With her own key.
"Good morning darling Grandma."
Embraces.
"Please stay!"
Door now pink.
Mommy brought Grandma in.
Hugs,
Kisses,
Holidays,
Lunches,
Pure love though there weren't
Quotes,
Same door,
Just different colors,
But it always opened for Grandma.
Even when it stuck a little,
The door opened in the end.

The living room floor was covered with dolls.
My grandmother sat on a chair.
No matter if the scene was at her house or ours.
What was the day of the week?
We didn't care.

Rain could not fall too hard,
Nor could the snowy chill nip my grandmother into her
home.
The sun could not melt her desire to come
Spend time with Joshua and I.
Grandma would be with me.
The weather changed.
Not her desire to come to my home.
What Grandma wished to do, she did.
That was all.

Her cheeks slightly flushed,
Bright babushka on her head
"Good morning darling Grandma," Josh and I would
chime.
Embraces for all,
A cup of tea for her,
Then divide, multiply, sit down, song time now.
I was the teacher, Grandma the principal of our
personal school.
No time was more difficult in my school day
Than dismissal when Grandma went home.
"Please stay," I would cry.
An extra half hour.
"Please stay."
Longer yet?
She'd have to go.

At Grandma's dining room table,
Friday afternoon,
Tablecloth lacy white-
Don't make a stain!
Placemats shiny red,
My place was so known
I was there, not caring if the end of our visit ever
came.
Mommy was late to pick me up?
Superb!
How many small words could we make from one big word?
Which one of us could create the most?
Then we would do it again.

I remember a hotel room,
And a game of "DONKEY" there.
Nine blanks for a word
Grandma had up to five letters to get wrong.
Did she realize the word was horseback?
Probably.
I don't recall.

I know that Grandma was my sitter supervisor.
No one mistreated me while my parents were out.
Thanks Grandma.

And there was the huge hotel double-bed.
Grandma was in a nightgown,
Bright smile on,
Blanketed.
I sat beside her with a colorform house-
Bed soft,
Grandma's love so warm.
Such fun!

For me Grandma made miniature tissue dolls
With bright smiles.
Life was good.
The dolls knew.
Made from colored fabrics and thread,
Folded by hand.
They lasted.
I still have them
Today.

Alzheimer's set in,
But Grandma's hugs lasted still.
They increased as time went on.
My grandma still knew what meant the most to her-
Family.
Good grades.
Well-fed guests.
Grandma's attitude toward everyone went unchanged.
Grandma stayed sweet as could be.
Reviewing the photographs in my Bat Mitzvah album,
I know that Grandma had kept her sense of joy in me.
But the most important attributes that in my grandma
were always there
Were simply her love and her care,
And I'll feel them forever
Even though
Grandma's not there.