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A Poem for Nana Syl: By Alexandra Lehrer

A Poem for Nana Syl:  By Alexandra Lehrer

This past January, I thought would be the start of a great New Year after what we all experienced with the recent Pandemic, but sadly I lost my mom , Sylvia in January.     She was a true fashionista and indirectly inspired me to follow this path that I am on now.    My Niece, Alexandra, was close to my Mom as well as all our children,   But, Ali, being the Poet at heart decided to surprise her mom and I with her wit and insight and composed this lovely Poem which captivated my Mom’s love for certain things especially tunafish, shows, dancing, fashion and a time period in her life which I called “Dirty Dancing” and the Catskills… A Poem for Mom….

Poem for Nana Syl

POEM:

Hand to toe
It wasn’t goodbye
You didn’t deserve this
Not you and I
How could a nana
Full of such pride
How could she leave me
A piece of me died
Sure she was tired
Wanting to rest
Yet she wanted to dance
Wanted to dress
I still hear your voice
Just you and I
Whispering “my baby”
You wouldn’t want us
To cry
What would Joel say
His hand on your arm
Leading through darkness
Guiding from harm
I think he’d say “syl,
What took you so long”
Our love wasn’t typical
But boy was it strong
Dressed to the nines
They head to the show
Because up in tamarack
Time could move slow
The stockings, the jewels
The gossip the crowd
If looks could be deadly
The wound would be loud
Her daughters, Her babies
Let’s head to the store
Their love language counted
By the clothing they wore
Her soup, her tuna,
The ice cream, the spread
I’m not hungry she said
“But please pass the bread”
The sun spilled light
Across her manicured floors
The air was too high.
The door should be closed.
Her worries, her love
A dish best served cool
The temp may be 90
But we won’t head to the pool
Her wit could strike you
Her smarts, so wise
The hairspray, the nails
The depth in her eyes
The kitchen, her home
Time could stand still
A laugh, a bagel
A coffee, a pill
A doctor, MD
Diagnosed in just five
The sound of her engine
Out for a drive
Flakowitz, the cafe
An entree, a snack
No server was safe
“Please send it back!”
Her laugh so contagious
It could rock your whole core
Nights up so late
Spilled to 11am snores
Dressed for the reaction
Our outfits, our hair
“Is my waistline bigger?”
“What should I wear?”
The goodbyes never easy
The garage would inch close
I can still see you both there
Time locked. Froze.
The world feels less
It doesn’t feel right
Sinatra is singing
“The way you look tonight”
I’ll hold our memories loud
A record replayed
Our prayers weren’t heard
We begged that you’d stay
My nana eternally
Her soul still alive
But I’ll see you next time
On colonnade drive

 

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