Grandma

She baked him pies on Sundays

Saved his drawings in a box under the bed

But when we came along years later

She turned her face, and walked ahead

Christmas cards came addressed to “my son”

Never “and family,” never our names

We’d sit real straight on her plastic-covered sofa

While she stared right through us, hard as rain

Now Grandma’s gone, they’re laying her down

Church bells ring over this one-horse town

I’m standing by a stone that never knew my face

Trying to cry for a woman

Who never called our names

(Never called our names)

Dad would drive a hour and half each Thanksgiving

Hoping one year she might change her mind

We’d wait in the truck, engine still running

He’d come back out with that same tight smile

He said, “She’s old, she’s stubborn, she’s hurting”

Like that could patch the hole she made

We learned to stop asking why she didn’t want us

But the question never really went away

Now Grandma’s gone, they’re laying her down

Church bells ring over this one-horse town

I’m standing by a stone that never knew my face

Trying to cry for a woman

Who never called our names

(Never called our names)

There’s a picture of her holding her other grandkids

Soft eyes, soft hands, sun in her hair

I guess she gave all her love in one lifetime

Left nothing for the rest of us to share

Now Grandma’s gone, and they’ll call her “an angel”

Tell stories that don’t match the way it felt

I’ll bow my head, but I won’t pretend

You can’t lose what you never had to begin

I’m saying goodbye to an empty frame

To a woman in our blood

Who never called our names