Great-Grandmother's Frying Pan Poem by R. G. Bell

Great-Grandmother's Frying Pan

Rating: 4.0

Great-grandmother’s Frying Pan

Thinking it mine, I seldom think it hers.
She had it first. Wedding present? New?
When? A hundred years? No, more than that.
Its use not altered in that time, or much.
It’s good for chicken, eggs, bacon or beef.
No. No eggs now. Too large for one, alone,
But not for widow with two small boys, alone.
They kept chickens, so there must have been eggs,
The ones not sold for cash. Times were tough.
Without bitterness, (much) , both sons said as much.

I might be forgiven not thinking of her.
We never met. Missed by thirty years. I know
She lost a husband young, malaria,
And then died younger than I am now, cancer.
Was her stove wood or gas? Wood, let’s guess.
Mine’s electric. Would she think that made it less?
The pan still works as well, or near as well.
There’s skill in skillet. I possess her pan,
Still, it didn’t come with inherited skill.

It’s all I have of hers, all any have, perhaps.
There was a photo. (Stern!) It might be found.
Nothing more of her life to show, a pan,
Unless you count the children, greats and gran.
It’s mine for yet awhile, a frying relic,
A fine relic, but who will claim it next?

R. G. Bell 2009

Shahzia Batool 16 July 2013

interesting... and natural...usually the old and grand people have a specific obsession, fixation or attachment with some of their objects, and they don't allow to touch it in their life-time even if you try to touch it just to tease them in all fun, just expect a stick on your hand...nice read indeed! ! !

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Bri Edwards 19 February 2013

i like skill in the skillet and frying relic/fine relic. i have some genes from grandma but no jeans from her. maybe the genes are a better inheritance. thanks for sharing.

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Jerry Buckley 26 January 2012

Fantastic... we really do have alot in common in our technique as well as out motifs.. thanks for making contact... I'm showing you a friend... keep in touch

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Brian Purdy 24 January 2012

Fine Poem. Well-built and almost palpably solid. Gives the impression of having the same kind of heft that iron pan must possess. So this relic of the woman - the only one to survive - continues to give good service. Pleasant to think that something of yours will similarly survive and do duty - maybe this poem. If it and the poem were mine I would put that in my will right now. Give the pan and the poem together to someone I cared for. But that's me... The pan's yours. Thanks for sharing the poem. P.S.: this is reconstruction (a little less eloquent, sorry to say) of my first message on this theme of yours. Prototype one got snatched into limbo by the godz of the internet. - Bep.

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Smoky Hoss 06 December 2011

I like the dialogue going on in this, it's quite good. And the family connection, reaching into the past, and future. Very nice.

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