My Grandmother's Voice

I would give anything to hear my grandmother's voice again
Rich, lilting, laced with eighty years of life
She knew everything
Although her memory was often criticised
She could never quite remember the exact date of anything
Or directions to wherever we were driving to
Or whether the last time she'd seen us was Christmas
But every Friday there was a phone call
She never forgot that
I want to feel her warm plump arms around me
and melt into her spongy bosom.
'ee pet' she'd wheeze and hold you close until there was only you and
her
and you wanted to stay forever pressed against her
Her house was full of memories
Drawers of pins and coins and scissors
She never dusted anything
She would watch the street outside from her bedroom window
She knew all the neighbours' ups and downs
Like the fairy godmother of Hatfield Road
She gave things away to people who wanted them
Like toys and videos and books
She dressed up for children at the local school
And told them her stories
Heartbreakingly proud of us
She introduced us to everyone on every visit
When she laughed she would slap her thigh
And you couldn't help but laugh with her
There was magic in her rheumy eyes
She would take her glasses off and wipe them with a tissue
They were always shining
Sometimes I want to talk to her
And I think I'll ring her
Or I'll go and see her
She'll be standing at her blue front door
Waiting to welcome us in
And make tea and let us eat biscuits before dinner
But she's not there
She isn't going to ring on Friday
Or come and stay for her birthday

I get bacon out of the fridge to fry
And I can hear her voice in my head
'Snip the edges it'll stop it curling'
So I take her orange handled scissors out of our kitchen drawer
And I carefully cut the fat