Sarah Bigham
A Reckoning of Nanas
Cover Art: Wanda Gág, Grandma's Kitchen, 1931. Lithograph. MOMA
A Reckoning of Nanas
Classmates spoke of meemaws and grannies and nanas and Grandmother Emmies who baked cookies and came to school events and canned applesauce each fall. I so wanted one of these grandmothers who gave hugs and made food and read books as you sat in her lap.
But mine had died, before I lived. I keep them in my heart. I had a step-grandmother with immaculate hair, beautiful jewelry, and expectations for children that did not seem to fit me, as someone out of step: wearing shoes in the yard (even in summer), not eating raw green beans right off the vine in the garden, and never leaving the house with a head of undried hair. She died when I was young. Had I been older, I like to think we would have been friends. I had a great grandmother who had to bury her own daughter. How hard that must have been. She kept butter on the porch and smoked cigarettes in her nightdress when she came to visit. She seemed to really like us children, telling stories while absently patting us on our wet heads. And then she died, too. |
Sarah Bigham teaches, writes, and paints in Maryland where she lives with her kind chemist wife, their three independent cats, an unwieldy herb garden, several chronic pain conditions, and near-constant outrage at the general state of the world tempered with love for those doing their best to make a difference. A Pushcart nominee, her poetry, fiction, and nonfiction have appeared in Bacopa, descant, indicia, The Quotable, Rabbit, Serving House Journal, Touch, and other great places for readers and writers. Find her at www.sgbigham.com.
past, Tammy Bendetti next, Martha Bove