I Remember

by Rachel Littmann, age 13
I Remember Rachel is a 13-year-old writer living in New Rochelle. She likes the outdoors, playing tennis, and being with her friends. She wrote this poem for her grandmother's memorial.

“I remember you, Bubbe Ester. / The smell of your house is what I remember clearly, / The smell that comes with things that have been loved over time, That carries so many memories with it.”

I remember you, Bubbe Ester.

The smell of your house is what I remember clearly, 

The smell that comes with things that have been loved over time,

That carries so many memories with it.

I remember you

and the stories you told me and Sammy of Mommy,

Of how Mommy had curly hair, and liked gymnastics and shopping,

just like I do.

I remember when you rushed to the house,

when you heard the ambulance came

to rescue me after my hair got stuck in the electric mixer.

You tickled me, made me laugh, made me forget the pain that I felt.

I remember you.

I remember you playing string with Betty, our cat.

You always loved to have her on your lap and pet her so she would purr.

I remember when I was little, you would come to our house 

with lots and lots of clothes and jewelry for me, 

Even though Mommy said not to buy me so much.

But you gave me so much more than things — 

I remember when you lived with us, you sat in the big brown chair and we played school.

I, the teacher, always had fun while you did the math “homework” 

And you, the student, always tried to enjoy it, even though you didn’t really want to practice second grade math. 

I remember we watched TV and played outside, 

You always picked up sticks in the backyard, 

even though we both knew more sticks would come, 

and Mommy would say to let the gardener do it.

You were always trying to make things look nicer, 

and you always did. 

I remember how you loved to watch me dance and sing,

not just at home but on stage in many musical shows.

How you were with us on holidays — even if you didn’t know what holiday it was,

But every day with you felt like a holiday. 

I remember you Bubbe Ester,

I remember the Sundays we visited you.

I remember the walks we took and the afternoons spent sitting outside,

I remember that you loved the sun beaming down on you,

How being warmed up by the sun always put a smile on your face.

I remembered how we listened to the old-fashioned songs you loved,

How we sang along with Bing Crosby and Elvis impersonators with so much glee,

I remember how you genuinely enjoyed those songs, 

how you glowed with joy — perhaps being reminded of time long ago.

I will remember you, always — 

How you were always there for me and everyone you loved.

Even if you aren’t here with us today, 

you will always be in our hearts, forever.


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