THE OLD COOKIE JAR

about a grandma who raised her grandchild and the love they shared.

I'LL ALWAYS REMEMBER THAT SAD, SAD DAY,

WHEN GOD CALLED MOMMY AND DADDY AWAY.

THEN MY GRANDMA CAME, AND SHE TOOK ME HOME,

TO HER HOUSE THAT SOON SEEMED JUST LIKE MY OWN.

 

THERE WAS AN OLD COOKIE JAR THERE ON THE SHELF.

MY GRANDMA TOLD ME, "GO AHEAD HELP YOURSELF."

SHE PRAYED FOR MY SOUL, AS I FILLED MY BOWL,

WITH COOKIES THAT SHE HAD MADE HERSELF.

 

WELL, SHE TAUGHT ME TO HELP DO CHORES AND SUCH,

AND I ALWAYS KNEW SHE LOVED ME SO MUCH.

GRANDMA AND I LIVED BY THE GOLDEN RULE,

ALL THOSE MANY YEARS, THAT I WAS IN SCHOOL.

 

I RECALL HER THERE IN HER EASY CHAIR,

I SEE HER DEAR FACE AND SILVERY HAIR.

SHE WATCHES OVER ME, NOW, FROM ABOVE,

AND STILL SHOWERS ME WITH ALL OF HER LOVE.

 

OH, THAT OLD COOKIE JAR THERE ON THE SHELF,

WHERE I ALWAYS COULD GO AND HELP MYSELF,

WAS FILLED FULL OF LOVE FROM GRANDMA, ABOVE.

BLESS THAT OLD COOKIE JAR THERE ON THE SHELF.

Reviews

[Andrew N. Farrens]

Tragically and possibly even traumatically, I never knew my grandparents, on either side of my father or mother's respective branches of family, because both sets of grandparents unfortunately died before I came into this cruel and merciless World kicking and screaming (at the injustice of it all!). Thankfully, though, I had surrogate grandparents as a young child and beyond; my next door neighbor on Lomita Avenue in Stockton, California, Kyoshi "Kay" Saiki, was who I considered my REAL grandfather and I still do even though he, like all of the others, is gone to greener pastures. To this day, I have yet to meet any-one more kind or as wise than Kay. As a tiny babe, barely out of my mother's womb, I had as a surrogate grandmother my godmother Gran-Jan and until recently, I knew that she was there for me always and forever, protecting me after her death in ways I will never understand, but I guess she has been offended by the words I write. She has disowned me and the hurt is great but this is neither here nor there when it comes to this wonderfully sentimental poem. Reading your poem helped my inherently natural empathy to envision a family structured along more traditional lines, thus making it possible to experience a "Grandma" for as long as it took me to read the poem. As a writer (and I presume reader), you understand what I mean and if for whatever reason this is not true, then keep writing, my friend, and when you're hands cramp with blurred vision from staring at piles and piles of words jumble onto the paper that you can no longer pick up because it feels like some-one is digging a red-hot knife into your back as the sharp edge scrapes against you're spine, unable to communicate with you're brain even if you had any sort of rational thought, well, that's the time to keep writing....... Thank-you for sharing......
Res Ipsa Loquitur
ANF

100/100

[mandy]

thank you, andrew. unfortunately i never knew my grandparents either. because when i was born, the last of seven, my parents were were the age of grandparents, and their parents were no longer living.

[Adam Crate]

I don't understand why the entire poem is in caps...

With that said I really enjoyed reading this. It was sad, sweet, and touching. The metaphor of the cookie jar worked well. Keep up the great work! I'd love to read more from you.

[mandy]

adam...i had it on my computer in caps as a song...i'm lazy, i copied and pasted...lol..thanks for the honest review.

[TheLastEclipse]

I just teared! That was great...
I adored my grandmother and this is just wonderful all around!

[mandy]

thank u so much

[Words]

wonderful mandy, you are truly a gifted writer, you influence me so in many ways, go girl. Lovely

[mandy]

thank you