To Grandma

I wrote this on the 25th after my mom had called the night before, letting me know that Grandma might not make it through the night. Later on Tuesday my dad called to suggest I call her and say goodbye. They put the phone next to her ear, I'm not sure if she heard, but I got to tell her I loved her. My grandma passed away on the 27th, Thanksgiving morning. She's in heaven now and I'm thankful.

Memories, Thoughts - Scrambled.

Will I mourn? She will be whole.
Swimming with the jellyfish -
Wishing I was with her now.
I can't separate myself from the want to wipe her brow,
hold her hand and stand next to her bed.
Nights spent at her house
Falling asleep, her stroking my head.

Sparkle shirts, trips alone -
I got to have them to my own.
But then he left and she was left
but so much left to give.
Will she die, yet while I live?
How much longer - this world in pain
I hear her calling out my name,
the same greeting she gave as I jumped into her arms -
So young, now not so young, but still I long to be that young
to have that jump again.

I refused the spinach but accepted tea
My sisters, crimped, standing there next to me.
(Three states spread apart, still connected at the heart)
She had that couch,
the orange-colored sort -
yet couch it was not but grandma's "davenport."
(Wait, she plays tennis) I didn't understand,
but now I'm older, I've grown older
while she held onto my hand.

She taught me, brought me to school and now
I can't be with her in the end.
Please forgive me - I love you so -
can you hear that - know it when you go.
It's better there, she always knew that.
She'll stand there smiling and waving back.
Hand in hand with Grandpa too -
Grandma - I love you.