A few months ago I moved from the house where my late husband and I raised our three children, a modest three-bedroom house in the suburbs. He died young of colon cancer at the age of 52. So, he did not live long enough to hear the cheerful noise of grandchildren filling the rooms of this same house as they enjoyed “Nonny Days” with me.
While I was still in the process of moving out, my son and one of his teen sons went to the house to do a bit of maintenance for me. Later my son told me about the emotional toll he recognized in his son as they went through the uninhabited homestead.
The following poem NUGGETS OF GOLD is a result of my mind’s fanciful journey into the emotions of this teen boy as he revisits the place where he spent numerous days exploring life and learning under the guidance of his now deceased grandmother–the one he affectionately calls “Nonny.”
NUGGETS OF GOLD
We walked into her house,
Her cupboard—already bare.
Someone had come and cleaned it out
Since Nonny was no longer there.
I turned to carry my bag down
To the bedroom I always loved.
A spider had spun a dainty lace
Which brushed my cheek from above.
“Where is Nonny?” I whispered,
Although the answer I knew.
“She’s gone!” the walls seemed to scream
But my heart won’t believe it’s true.
Mem’ries of days spent with Nonny
Flooded me head to toe.
The lessons, the play times—they linger
Inside me like nuggets of gold.
So when I can’t help but be sad
I’ll pull out this glittering gold
And lifting it up to the heavens
I’ll see angels’ sweet message unfold.
With billowing clouds they inscribe letters
In a language to me unknown.
But somehow my heart knows the meaning:
“Nonny’s worshipping God on His throne.”
Nonny, I’ll never forget you—
Learning and laughing together.
But whatever days ahead may bring me
I’ll love you forever and ever.
A Boy who’s Becoming a Man
Thinks What It Will Be like Someday
When He Loses the Grandmother
He Calls “Nonny”
By Connie Carlisle Polley, 2020