Digital print of photograph of drawing with watercolor
My Grandma was Perfect
My grandmother is/was perfect. She was young and gorgeous and warm and energetic. She was always smiling and happy. She was so sweet. Everyone loved her and hugged her. She was always surrounded by family and friends.
She was a New Yorker. When she was outside, she was strolling on the streets, sitting on benches, pausing by fences. She played on crowded beaches. She was inside modest apartments with wallpapered walls. She sat on couches in living rooms, stood by front doors, gathered with family around kitchen tables.
She never missed a birthday or holiday. She loved reunions and vacations with family. She knew how to have a good time.
She was perfect. Ive never seen her frown. She never raised her voice. She never even gets sick. The sickest she got is that she started wearing glasses, cut her hair and stopped wearing red lipstick. And thats her worst offense. She died in 1963.
Grandma Perfect doesnt demand my attention like the living. I never disappoint her. And she never disappoints me.