Whose Child Am I?

Whose Child Am I?

Maybe I’m my Papa’s child.
He’s the only father I’ll ever know-
  the man that fed me,
  gave me  shelter and clothes,
  took me into his home
  and raised me as his own
   because I am his own.

He taught me how to be strong,
  to stand up and speak my mind,
  to not let the evils of the world blind me.
My beautiful Papa, with that fury such a flare-
Thank you. I got it too. All seekers beware.

I’m my Papa’s child.  This I know,
  because I handle my business-
  sunshine, rain, sleet and snow.

But maybe I’m my Grammy’s child-
  I can be sweet you know,
  but as sweet as my Grammy,
  the extent can not be told.
My Grammy taught me compassion,
  to be kind, loyal and true-
  to give, give, give, even the life in you...

It’s my Grammy whose beautiful smile
often makes me sigh
cause it’s so full of light
and she keeps me wondering why...

They say the same of me too.
Grammy, my inner beauty, 
  I proudly I get from you.

But maybe I’m my Mama’s child,
  another her have I become-
  to handle some of the worst of life
  yet remain standing tall.
“Deal with it baby” are the words that I hear
  when I’m most alone and I stand in fear.

When I need someone to listen
  or to just say hello,
  I call up my Mama
  but she’s hardly ever at home.

She’s out there working it...
  like she taught me to.
You go there, Mama!
I’m a bad bitch too.

Whose child am I?
Whose could I be?
  I know I’m God’s child
  because He gave me all three.

"Whose Child Am I?" is an excerpt from Candidreams: I Remember the Beginning

OOPS!
Apparently folks,
I've forgotten how to count to 2.
Candie's Blog is supposed to be
every other Tuesday. 
You're not imagining things.
I lost track of of my weeks.
Enjoy this week's post and
I will see you again in two weeks!

About "Whose Child Am I?"

      I'm sharing this particular poem at this particular time because March and April are jam-packed with dates that formerly threatened my peace of mind. My father died on March 27 and my Mom died within a year on the following Saint Patrick's Day. My father's mother also passed in March a few years after them.
    My Mom's birthday is in April. It is one of many birthdays I celebrate during that month. The coming and going of Mom's birth and death dates were horrendous the first few years but thankfully, they got better. In May, I look forward to celebrating Mother's Day with my last remaining parent, my 92 year-old Grammy.
     My siblings and I were primarily raised by my Grammy and her husband (my Papa) in their home. Saying I got a lot from all of them (other than my DNA) would be a terrible understatement. They all helped me become the best of what I am. I am not just my mother's, my father's, or one individual's child. I belong to them all because I am a child of the King who created us all.

Also from "Candidreams: I Remember the Beginning"