Written during day, I think 15, of the
Coronavirus - Shelter In Place order
Impact
kks
3:28 am
4/2/2020 Dedicated to my Grandma,
Arlotta Perkins
For a narrated version
click on the link below
Impact
I don’t get to vote
Life has a way
Of designing today
————
Impact
I don’t actually like the sound
the sound of the word
Because there are times
when impact sounds
like something smashing
right into the ground
————
Impact
Wait.
Stop right there.
Impact doesn’t always sound
like a car
smashing explosively
into a tree
————
Wait... I say again...
Impact
Like it or not
Impact
It just is...
————
Impact
Now I think of my Grandma
Her impact has left
some of my favorite marks
and her memories are part
of my daily heart
————
Impact
I used to stay with her many weekends
back when she was a church housekeeper
I loved the way my grandma
would make me a bedtime snack
Each time she took care
Setting the table for me
Including a nicely folded napkin
And OJ in a REAL glass
She’d cook my egg to perfection
A fried egg
turned over gently
with a hand broken yolk
that was lightly salted and peppered
then placed on
A perfect piece of toast
First covered with real butter
Followed by a thin veneer
of Helman’s Real Mayo
Opening my mouth
Taking a bite
Ever so gently
the mayo tang flavor
would sneak through
And taste bright
In contrast with the crisp piece of toast
Contrasting the egg so smooth
Now that IMPACT
Tastes
Mmmmmmm mmmm mmm good
————
Now when I miss my grandma
I copy that egg each time
Not only that egg sandwich
But her scrambled eggs too
Maybe breakfast is my favorite meal
To make. To eat. To imitate.
Because now that I think about it
That is a major way
that her IMPACT shines through
————
Impact
It’s not that she got to vote
What part of her that I hung on to
She just lived how she lived
And her way just made its way through
From her and into me
(and maybe into you)
Rummy 500
Cribbage
Always having water in a real glass
in her fridge
Eating real butter
when margarine was the way...
I always copied her choices
thinking that if it was good enough for her
it was good enough for me
She knew how to wear white
like nobody’s business
With her summer brown berry tan
And silver hair
She literally would capture everyone’s stare
Not because she was a “magazine” model
of shapely beauty
but more because of her radiance
of contrast from all that she’d risen through
That she reflected a kind of deep truth
Like she knew who she was
Like she didn’t care
What someone else thought of her
Because she she’d risen to right there
She didn’t have a say
the way she impacted those around
She’d just show up
and shake a hand
Saying, “it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance”
with her smile and her glow
It was like by the time she was older
she just knew that people
needed to catch a little glimpse
of the beauty of who they were
And her own life spark
leaked on to them
Making a mark.
She wasn’t afraid to stand in a gap
Knowing that there were some
who needed just that
She’d help them with laundry
Or fix countless holes in favorite jeans
She could remove the stain in a shirt
until it became like it was new all over again
I’ll remember her fondly
As many of her grandchildren do
(I am the youngest
of her 13 grandchildren
the she has locked-in
as part of her legacy)
Arlotta Perkins
Born June 23, 1910
Passed into glory
November 24, 2006
Wife of Kenneth Percival
Mother of Lloyd
Mother of Jack
Mother of James Kenneth
Mother of Janet Kay -
~known as my mother today
Son Lloyd had Becky Sue,
Peggy Lou and young Lloyd too
Jack was the proud father of two
John and Jackie and later Cheryl too
James Kenneth called Jim was dad to
Suzy, Mary, Bo and Jane
—Jim liked to live as a Canadian—
While my mom had
Steven, Elizabeth, Patrick, and Kate
(My mom often called me Kate the Great!)
————
You know how a loved one lives on?
You capture all their beautiful parts
You give grace to the gaps
And you imitate like crazy
All of your favorite impacts
A beautifully hand written letter
A tidy clean home
A meal that people rave about sunset to dawn
Texas Sheet-Cake Brownies
My favorite, Cheese Pouf
A hot fudge for ice cream
(that was “to die for” if I could)
Homemade afghans
I still have mine today
Thank you Grandma
for helping me see
I too have a path
Bigger than me
I can only do what I do
And invite people in
As we gather, we grow.
As we grow, we share.
As we share life...
an impact occurs
An impact...
It’s just what happens
when our lives intersect
The cool thing is
we may never know
or see how or when...
when we just do what we do
an impact begins...
Maybe I do like the sound
of the word
IMPACT
after all
