Grandma's Stories cover art
Late Bloomer

Grandma's Stories

Jasper Smoke

Listen on Spotify
Remember that last cup of tea, One spiral notebook, between you and me, Plastic bracelet tucked under your sleeve, Try to ignore it Your dad left his town at 18, Crossed the Atlantic, and landed in Queens, Then he built his American dream, So far before me And facing the elements, didn't think twice He sold coal in the winter, in summer sold ice Struggled with English, created a life And you told me the story... I still remember the beach in September, you digging for treasure, and painting Shells with your sister, with sunburn and blisters, the simplest things that I miss Like Christmas together, your grandfather's sweater, the terrible weather, I loved it Sweets before dinner, you fixing my printer, oh what could be better than this? What could be better than this? Grandpa got back from his tour, thought he got lucky, the end of the war But the next week he fell off a horse, fractured his femur Back on his feet in the spring, Mutual friends started pulling the strings And in six weeks he bought you a ring, Reached for your finger You asked "are you sure that you don't want to wait?" He said "whats the difference? I knew right away", "He always pushed me when I played it safe," And you laughed with the story... I still remember your game in November, you waited forever to play You were cold and frustrated, we knew that you hated it, cheered for your team anyway But watching your band, a guitar in your hands, I could not understand where you got it It wasn't from me, but I sure loved to see it, oh what could be better than this? What could be better than this? Every call ended with 10 more goodbyes You never gave me the last word on the line I wish I could say it 100 more times And ask for a story... I still remember in early September, the cucumbers picked from the garden Your grandfather holding your hand, while he showed you the plants, and told you which was rotten I watched from the window, my love and his kiddo, those afternoons, never forgot them But twenty years later, the memories fade, and I'm ready to see him again What could be better than this?