Long ago, when I was small
My grandpa took me to another town,
We stopped at a tiny cottage
To visit a lady in a long, baggy gown.
Her eyes showed a twinkle
And she had a double chin,
She was my grandpa’s mother
Which made her my direct kin.
She wore high-button shoes
I thought she was kind of odd
Her apron was held with safety pins
She acknowledged me with a nod.
Her hair, pulled back in a bun
Was now streaked with gray,
It was once bright red like mine
Would I look like that someday?
She had come over on a boat from Wales
When Grandpa was just a lad,
They immigrated to Syracuse, New York
But moved to Michigan with all they had.
With small glasses at the end of her nose
She scurried around to brew us some tea
In my wildest dreams it never occurred
That she could go on living through me.
She must have had many stories to tell
And appeared to be pleasant and kind,
I never saw that little woman again
But her image was burned into my mind.
As I strolled past a store the other day
Guess what I happened to see?
I got a glimpse of my reflection
And there was my great-grandma,
Looking back at me!
