My Grandma Kitchen

16/06/2020 – Iso Well-Being Compilation

 

When I’m a magnificent grandma

I’d like to be the sort of person

Whose kitchen is always welcoming

And always full of food.

 

I’d like to imagine my children,

Grown with lives of their own,

Sitting around the table

Just like when they were young.

 

They’d talk about their work

As they used to talk about school,

Gossiping about the people there

And comparing notes as they go.

 

All of their partners would be welcome,

Regardless of gender or sexuality,

All loved and considered family,

Always with a stocking at Christmas.

 

The grandchildren would run amok

And fill the room with giggles and laughs,

Sneaking biscuits behind their parents back

And eating dessert before their main meal.

 

They’d lick beaters and mixing bowls

And fall asleep on the floor,

Or stay up long past bedtime

Watching a movie curled up in my lap.

 

Whether they shared my genetics or not,

They’d still get a story read to them at night

And get an extra little something at Easter

That’d get me a that look from their parent.

 

I’d invite my friends in for lunch

That somehow turns into dinner

And we drink into the wee hours

Reminiscing about our misspent youth.

 

We’d cover the table with photos

And laugh ‘til we cried at our fashions,

With clothes we wouldn’t be seen dead in

But will no doubt come back into style.

 

We’d ooh and aah over pictures

Of each other’s families we have on our phones

Saying how it feels like it was just yesterday

That our own precious children were that small.

 

And though life is never perfect,

(There’d be so many ups and downs)

I’d like to imagine the good times

Far outweighed the bad.

 

So, I hope my grandma kitchen

Is just like the one I knew as a child –

Filled with love and, occasionally, chaos

And the smell of a home cooked meal.