You Never Lost Your Pride, Grandmother

In 1999, four years after Dorothy Pendleton’s death, her granddaughter Robin wrote this poem:

Grandmother, I remember

when we visited you in that nursing

home

and you combed your hair

and made your bed.

You proudly showed us the new curtains

around the woman with an oxygen tank

and drooling old men

doing religious paint-by-numbers.

I remember that you smiled

and said it was charming

as a lonely tear slipped down your

cheek

that you brushed away.

But most of all,

I remember meeting you that day,

and I found true respect

for you and your life because

you never let your back bend

or hung your head low –

under the weight of your sorrow you

stood your ground

while it shook and cracked beneath

you.

So now that you are gone

I will love you always

and remember forever.

You never lost your pride, Grandmother.

– Delia Robin Pendleton