Misplaced Memories

((Today I will post a poem for my advanced poetry writing class. It's supposed to be addressed to someone, sort of like a letter, in poem form.))

Do you remember me?

Do you remember the car you loved or your favourite candy?

Can you recall the names of all your children, or who your husband was?

Do you know where you are or how to speak English?

Do you remember me?

I remember.

I am your youngest grandchild.

You used to drive an olive green Buick Regal

that swallowed you up in its massive body,

And every time we visited you

there would be a bowl of Swedish Berries waiting for my sister and me.

You have four children; Per-Henrik, Gunilla, Bjorn and Solvig,

and your husband died many years ago in Sweden.

You held my dad’s hand as you walked down the path to the funeral.

You’ve lived in the West Vancouver Care Centre for two years now,

I stand by your bed every time I visit, and you smile up at me without recognition.

You spoke nearly flawless English, though you said ‘polka nuts’ instead of ‘polka dots’.

I loved your thick Swedish accent, even if I could barely understand you.

Now you speak in ‘Swinglish’, of outrageous tales

and million dollar boats.

I am your youngest grandchild.

I was scared of your monster of a car and ate half the berries when I came over.

I am the daughter of your third child and granddaughter of your forgotten husband.

I try to visit you every two weeks, and I speak no more than five words of Swedish.

I wish you would remember me.