"I think I would live to one hundred,
but I've run out of husbands,"
said Grandmother
on the eve of ninety-five.
"Oh, but God gave me good ones,
they never cursed or yelled,
they were good to me.
"On our move, Bill told me
'I'm going to spend the rest
of my life making you happy'
and I just laughed
"that will last three months, I thought
but he sure was a good husband.
"The cigarettes caught up with them.
You know, in my generation,
if you were a man,
and you didn't smoke at thirteen,
you were a sissy.
"It would be something to live
to be one hundred, yes,
they were good men."
