Grandma’s Radio by Abbie Johnson Taylor

Abbie J. Taylor 010Author Abbie Johnson Taylor

Grandparent’s Day was a few weeks ago, and I completely forgot about it until now. Several months ago when it was my turn to facilitate our third Thursday poets’ meeting, I played my guitar and sang “Grandma’s Feather Bed.” I brought copies of the lyrics so people could sing along if they wanted. I then suggested we write about the best darn thing about our own grandmothers’ homes. To hear me sing the song with piano accompaniment, go to https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/15213189/grandma%27s%20feather%20bed.mp3. What I wrote is below.

***

GRANDMA’S RADIO

“It’s a good day,” the morning announcer sings.

“Now, stand by for news.”

At the age of twelve, lying next to Grandma

in her big double bed, I ask,

“Why do we have to listen to news?”

“So we’ll know what’s going on in the world,”

she answers. After local and national news,

sports, horiscopes, we begin our day.

In my own room at home, I have a radio,

wake up in the morning to all the happenings

around town, around the country, around the world.

As a teen-ager, I listen to latest hits,

The Lone Ranger, The Shadow, some comedy.

With limited vision, I’m carried off

in a way never accomplished by television.

Now, with Granma gone, I follow her example

lie in bed, listen to National Public Radio,

know what goes on in the world.

***

Now it’s your turn. What’s the best darn thing about your grandma’s house? Please feel free to share below.

***

 

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13 Responses to Grandma’s Radio by Abbie Johnson Taylor

  1. Doris says:

    Memories of childhood, some happy others sad. Time gone, but always remembered. Doris

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thanks, Doris, this is so true.

    Like

  3. Wranglers says:

    Nice song. The lyrics are to Grandma’s Radio. Loved Grandma’s Feather Bed. My memories of Grandma’s house are many, as are yours, her beds had those big homemade quilts, the outing on the bottom, bluejeans in the middle and a quilted top. They were so heavy when you laid down you stayed there. Cher’ley

    Liked by 1 person

  4. My grandma was a wise old woman with so much knowledge and insight. It was always a blessing to hear her talk and tell stories about the old days. I miss her tremendously and will never forget her. I honor her in my writing and have even dedicated my first book to the memory of her.

    Like

  5. Mike Staton says:

    My memories: Her sloppy kisses when I came to visit, and her homemade sweets, the chocolate drop cookies and the candy.

    Like

  6. Wranglers says:

    Different memories for different Grandmas as they were opposite personalities. Loved them both, but felt more loved by one. Remember falling asleep as Dad and Grandma visited, and fingered the little Norwegian dolls hanging on the floor lamp each time. They fascinated me. Nice song, Abbie.

    Like

  7. Joe Stephens says:

    It’s hard to pick, but it was probably the food. Grandma made the most amazing soups, especially chili. But the most spectacular thing about my grandparents’ home were the acres of tomato plants out back. Grandpa PK supplemented his income and then retirement by growing tons (maybe literally) of tomatoes that he sold to markets and even door-to-door to neighbors.

    Like

    • My grandmother made the most delicious potato salad with just the right amount of mustard and other ingredients. She never shared her recipe. My mother tried unsuccessfully to copy it. Once as an adult, I tried some potato salad from a local market, and it tasted similar to Grandma’s so I wondered if Grandma bought it there instead of making it. One of my cousins dispelled this myth by telling me she’d actually seen Grandma peel the potatoes. This didn’t stop me from writing a short story about a grandmother who served store-bought cookies and potato salad, claiming they were her homemade, secret recipes.

      Like

  8. I never knew my grandmother on my mom’s side as she died at a very young age (49) so I wasn’t born yet. The home for my grandma on my dad’s side doesn’t have very good memories for me. Not because my grandmother wasn’t sweet (she was although didn’t speak English very well) but because there was a poor dog they wouldn’t let inside the house who liked to nip at people. As a child, I remember running from the front gate to the front door as fast as possible so Lucky wouldn’t bite me. Sorry – that’s not a very positive memory but it’s the strongest one I have! Now my dad lives in my grandma’s house after she passed. Unfortunately, there is no more Lucky but there is a beautiful garden in the backyard.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Sarah, I’m sorry you have such an unpleasant memory of your grandmother’s house. Your story reminded me of Edward Albee’s The Zoo Story in which one character talks about how he poisoned his landlady’s dog who kept trying to attack him. It inspired me to write a story about a college student who does the same thing to his great-aunt’s dog in the same scenario. It was published in an online literary magazine a couple of years ago, and you can read it on my blog at https://abbiescorner.wordpress.com/2013/03/25/my-zoo-story/ .

      Like

  9. Nancy Jardine says:

    My memories are in my grandpa’s house which he shared with my aunt (grandmother having died before I was born) and my aunt was in effect my NANA as she was 15 years older than my mother. I stayed a lot of weekends at grampa’s with my older sister and we listened to the radio on Friday nights which was mainly classical music and programmes which featured the recent (movie versions) of musicals like ‘South pacific’. They had no TV till 1959 so while listening grampa, my sister and I played card games, or dominoes or cribbage. Happy and simple pursuits but great family time.

    Liked by 1 person

  10. S J Brown says:

    I never knew my Mothers Mother or my Fathers Mother, however when I think of my Step Fathers mother I instantly think of food. Everything thing was made from scratch. There was no cook book or recipe to follow. She measured with her hands, not a measuring cup and even the food I had never heard of before I was happy to try because her food was always sooooo good. Although she spoke several languages English wasn’t one of them. But even as a child I understood a smile and the offering of food.

    Liked by 1 person

  11. Smells of baking bread and sauerkraut! I can smell them now!! Great poem, Abbie, and what a delightful way to have a writer’s gathering — by singing! 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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