Saving Love: for Nana

Saving Love

for Nana

"Precious treasure and oil are in a wise man’s dwelling,

but a foolish man devours it." – Proverbs 21: 20

I would sneak in there because I wasn’t supposed to,

At least it seemed that way to a me, a child: the room

Your grandparents slept in, where all their stuff was.

It had a certain darkness and hiddenness, the secret

Adult world kids no nothing about, so hold in awe.

It sat on her dresser, like a treasure chest, holding

Her jewelry, but I didn’t seek the treasure in stones

Or precious metals. What I sought was the little key,

That when turned broke the silence with little clicks

As it turned winding the notes of its music inside.

I would wind and wind, and not let any note escape,

Mostly because I didn’t want to get caught, and she

Might hear if I let some go. She couldn’t ever prove

It was me, if she never caught me, and she never did.

The last few clicks were always the hardest to conceal,

Tighter and louder, letting me know I was near done.

I’d close the lid, leaving the music there inside for her

To find. I don’t know when I first did it, but I always

Would sneak in there when we visited and wind it.

I don’t even remember when the secret became

A talked about thing, with me never owning up to it,

And her never coming right out and accusing me,

But each knowing, heart to heart what it was.

You see, she would save it, opening her jewelry box,

Only for a second, treasuring the captured notes,

Her notes, like they were from me to her, erasing

The miles and the time between us, one note

At a time. They say that a melody is made up of

Different notes played in sequence, but the song

She heard meant more, played one note at a time,

Stretching it out for as long as she could, saving

Each treasured note and what it meant. I hope

There weren’t many times when she would open

Silence, but I’m sure there were. The truth in the

Silence is all too true of Grandparents, and there

Just never being enough time to visit enough.

Love like that knows no such thing as enough,

Only what is. You learn such truth as you get older

Because you’ve lost enough to see it differently

And value each moment more. Like I’m not sure

When I started doing it, I’m also not sure when,

Upon learning that she saved the music, I came

To know what it meant, but I can’t think of any

More important lesson for her to teach me

Now that I know: There just aren’t enough ways

In this world for us to show our love to each other,

But when we find one it’s worth doing and saving.
I wish I had turned that key more times in these

Last few years. I wish I could’ve given her more

To save. I wish I could let her know I valued love

As much as she did. But I will never wind nor

Hear a music box again without remembering

The precious treasure she has given to me.