My Maternal Grandmother
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Such love. Such gentleness. Such care. You gave these things to me in all those bygone days when I was just a just a juvenile. Unaware of what I had within my life - of what you gave and introduced; like handfuls of shiny half-crowns that could have bought me the moon had I stored them for later use, had I cherished them for the thought behind your heartfelt deed of giving. Such softness as your fingers interleaved and slid through mine, carefully, oh so carefully, cleaning away the mucky childhood stains on the wooden draining board of care, beside the boiler that gasped for air and spluttered gaseous metaphors of all the things you were healing and smoothing away with Knight's Castile - the things that burped and interrupted the smooth joy you wanted to instill for ever into my cherished life. © Allen Ansell 2023
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