At grandmom's wake so many people knew her when she was young: childhood friends, cousins, co-workers... I just always thought of her as Grandmom, like she was born that way. It made me sad, to think I only knew this side of her, but it's also so special, the relationship she had with her grandchildren. So after the wake I wrote this, and read it (haltingly, with tears) at the funeral. It's not especially poetic, but I'm sure Grandmom forgives me that :)
I am jealous of an angel
the day before you died.
Who could be there,
When I could not.
I imagine a patient angel,
Waiting for you to know it was time.
Wings at peace, a gentle smile.
I am comforted by her comforting of you.
You loved your family more than anything.
So I know your graceful letting go, of family, of home,
Had no fear.
I am jealous of your reunions, those
Heavenly embraces. And I’m awed by their strangeness:
Those perhaps calling YOU grand-daughter,
And reminiscing about stories I’ve never heard.
There are so many stories I will never hear.
So many black and white pictures out of context.
I cannot picture your face when you were my age.
Because you are my Grandmom.
One role of many, I now realize.
But to me you are eternally Grandmom,
Eternally kind, loving, forgiving,