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It was on a cold, damp, evening in March, when my Grandmother went out to pick up a Shamrock plant from the corner flower shop. This was a ritual, for it was Grandfathers birthday, March 17th, St.Patrick's Day, and even after his death, my Grandmother would honor his memory with a beautiful Shamrock plant.

My Grandmother would not make it home this particular St.Patrick's Day. She had picked up the Shamrock and was returning home when, while crossing the street, she was run down by a drunk driver. The impact knocked her to the pavement, shattering the bones in her leg and knocking her unconscious. A neighbor heard the skidding tires of the accident and found my Grandmother laying on the cold, dirty, roadway, her eye glasses shattered, her handbag sprawled open its items scattered about, the Shamrock plant was broken, the pot smashed to bits. My Grandmother he said, awoke briefly when he called her name, and she asked him if the Shamrock was alright, then she lost consciousness once more. The ambulance arrived within minutes as did the Police, the driver of the vehicle, that hit my Grandmother, was a woman returning home from a St.Patrick's Day party. She was charged with driving while impaired and was taken away to the Police Station, her life changed forever in an instant, just as my Grandmothers was.

When I was contacted by my parents and told the news of what had happened, I was shocked to say the least. I was also grateful, that her neighbor was there to comfort her and take care of her personal things while she was transported to hospital. My Grandmother recovered from her injuries, she was always a tough lady, even though she was small in stature and slight of build.
She was however never quite the same after that accident, her left leg which had been shattered, was now held together by a titanium rod and pins.

I wrote a poem months later in honor of my Grandmother, as she was my hero and my friend. She was a lovely person, with a big heart, and a strong will. Grandmother had a stubborn streak as well, but I believe it was this, that helped her get through the tough times.

This poem I wrote was never written for the public, it was a private poem when I created it.
It was only when I read about a contest in a magazine that I decided to submit the poem I had written for my Grandmother. I entered the contest and quietly went on with my life, soon forgetting all about it. Three months later I received a notice to pick up a registered letter at the Post Office. I was curious as I wondered what it could be for?. I signed for the letter and was shocked to find out, I had won the contest! Five Hundred dollars and my poem published in the magazine!

I have always kept a copy of that magazine with the poem I wrote in its pages. I am glad I decided to enter the poem, letting thousands of readers get to know what a kind, brave and special person my Grandmother really was! She was the world to me and I was given the chance to tell the world about her.

Learn more about this author, Sandra Lynn.
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