Grandma's Rug

Grandma's Rug
S. Ambrose, 2024

Remember Sunday afternoon in the basement of make believe, 
A place I've had to let go and  grieve.
While we played,  upstairs  adult hearts tore apart
Wearing masks to  play  their dictated part. 
Afraid of vulnerability, their feelings fell down, 
Slid their way under and around
The corner of  Grandma's rug.

Year after year,
I wondered who  would care.
Were there Smiles across our  miles?
Was reunion reserved only  for church aisles?
Our family  neatly filled up a pew, 
But no one really knew
How far apart our  hearts sat.


Now, there are empty chairs around our table
That make family feel like a lost fable.
The worn rug sits high, creeks with heartbreak and sigh, 
Filled with unspoken words of  shame and judgment,  
Grandma's rug is in need  of repair and a loving  adjustment.
It swells with anger never addressed and  hard to digest.
It's become a  mat of meaningless memories.

No one calls to say hello anymore,
Life isn't as it was before.
The Sunday afternoon table was so long ago, 
Childhood seems to have lost its glow? 
No one's gone back to smooth out the rug
They'd rather stay smug and snug
Away from what they've left under it.

Sometimes I sit at the table alone
And realize I've lost my home.
Others think we gave  it our all,
But so many of us crawled up in ball, 
Wondering what it takes to be loved.
With so many tears, I created a flood
When I laid on Grandma's mountain like rug.

Always  concerned about my dress size
While they sat chuckling and  well oversize.
Letting jealousy rip through a family tree,
They questioned my parents love for me.
You can't just take  what isn't yours,
It breaks my heart what my mom endured.
So many conversations swept under the rug.

What I thought was a solid foundation 
Was just cheap, generic decoration.
The habits passed along  I worked to unlearn, 
My mindset needed  healed and  transformed.
Many saw us speaking in heavenly tones, 
But I felt all of the stones thrown
Before they rolled under the rug.

Healing requires honesty and love. 
It demands forgiveness. We can't continue to shove
Feelings under Grandma's rug
Then give it a shrug.
One day Grandma's rug will be gone
And our hearts will withdraw or  long
To put  pieces we pushed under the family rug back together.