Day 65...

At around 11:30am today, Grandma Sue passed away. I feel immeasurably grateful that I was given the chance to see her a few weeks ago. At the same time, I realized when I saw dad's text message with the news that this would be one of those truths that take a long time to learn how to believe. I'll miss her humor, her catawampus vocabulary, her keen curiosity for the things she marveled at in this world, her voice, her matter-of-fact politics, how consummately humble she was, her faith, her stories, and every warm knitted thing her hands created with such ridiculous ease...

I wrote a poem for her on my flight back that weekend, when we somehow managed to fill her house with the laughter and easy love of youth. Despite its being choppy and rough-drafted, I thought I'd post it here. (Cuz frankly, i don't dare change it now--so outside of its moment.)

paper-thin, the skin around your steady eyes. clear as ever but for seldom slips of memory. saturated by morphine--oxycontin--any kind of anti-emetic you're still able to choke down. surrounded by each generation you have in part created--but when I mention you refuse the credit and dwell instead on gratitude. you won't admit the miracle yet breathe life into these passing moments--being here now, wherever they might take you later.

looking at your fragile body, i think that we are different. and answering my thoughts, you tell me we're the same. how easily i believe you, too, like delving through a well-loved habit, lending strength on history alone. where i, loving you longer than my reasoning is old, can't help but trust your words. and holding your determined hand--any distinction of our brief conclusions can suddenly be damned.

Faretheewell folk,
-LaW