​Grandma

My mum worked for Jimmy Young
Used to be J. H. Bolden and Son
Until my grandpa died
It was a garage
I hung around on holidays
Bored and annoying

Many years before child labour laws
I swept the gigantic floor area
A skinny little bugger
The broom weighed more
Sweating and dirty
My reward - a drink out of the tap

Other times mum had me ride
Around town counting tv antennas
People thought Donald was small
Try little legs and a 20" bike
The Sun Tour couldn't possibly
Be any longer or harder

Grandma lived in Blair Street
Two blocks away from home
It seemed so much more
On days when I was ducking mum
Didn't feel like sweeping
I would make the journey

It had been a couple of years
Since my grandpa had died
Leaving her alone after 37 years
Of a close and happy marriage
Woman should be styled after her
A real gentle lady

Christmas was always around home
The home of a magnificent cook
A few streamers corner to corner
The adults at one table
The kids at another noisey as always
Then to the back verandah to play

Lawn bowls was her game
Don't know if she was good
She always looked good
In her white dress and hat
She played down near the river
Opposite the power station

Knock on the back door
Sometimes again on the window
Would bring Grandma to the door
We would watch tv
The Streets of San Francisco
Was always a favourite

After nearly 10 years Merv returned
The prodigal son home at last
After a couple of years age took a toll
Years of visiting relatives in homes
It was Grandma's turn to be visited
My favourite relative didn't know me

I took my kids to visit their great grandma
She didn't know them didn't know me
Drab surroundings made the visits sadder
Her final years spent in this prison
Nobody caring if you live or die
Serving up mush each meal time

Born in 1904 with twin Fred
A modest country lifestyle
Marrying in her twenties
Bert Bolden the lucky man
A happy life they enjoyed
She deserved better than this