Predestined Role

        

 

Being I’m the youngest

Of generation, mine,

Missed out on many memories

That have been past, down line.

Of six boys in our family

The first two, maybe, third,

 Knew grandmas from both parents

Stories just, I heard.

Though have TWO recollections

With my dear mother’s mum

When visiting, at age of three

Sh’enjoyed when we did come.

She lived with mum’s young sister,

The last born of that clan,

I do recall me pulling at

The skin of wrinkled hand,

And as I was-a-playing

With all that aged loose skin 

I had a thought, which seemed profound,

Now where do I begin?

I came and stood beside her,

She held her hand, outstretched, 

As I was pulling at the skin,

In my mind, this is etched.

“Gran lives with youngest daughter,

In my clan, I’m the last,

So I will have to do the same”

My role, it had been cast.

Many years, then, later,

Dad passed, leaving just mum,

The role played out as I’d foreseen

Mum's carer, I’d become.