Ode to Shirley Jean
Dear Grandma,
It's been a while and for that I'm sorry. I wish you could see the person I've become. I got accepted to college the other week and I'm going to Utah State in the Fall. I hope you're proud of me. Things are changing every day. Most of your children don't talk to each other now, but some are starting to connect back with Papa. You were the glue, Grandma. You were love and warm hugs. You were joy, laughter, and big smiles. You were compassion, and everything good in the world.
After you left, some of them forgot. They forgot about the goodness. They wrote their goodness on you and buried it down deep the same day you were. It's a shame, just because you weren't here to remind them everyday about all the goodness, that they had to go and hide it away. But like I said, some of them are starting to remember. They grabbed their shovels and dug up the grave where their hearts lied, they begged for redemption because what they had wasn't what they really wanted. Now, their hearts are a little dusty, but I believe they still beat.
I worry that me and my siblings will end up like them. Lonely, sad, grey. They are the color grey, and you were radiant as the sun. My mom reminds me a lot of you. She's stayed by Papa's side through all of this, but some of her sisters haven't spoken to her since that day. That was almost 4 years ago, Grandma. 4 years. 4 years...
4 years, 2 grand children, 8 great grand children.
It was closed casket. But they opened it for the family right before we went out for the funeral. My mom said you could tell who was looking the longest by who was crying the hardest. I couldn't look for very long, Grandma. I looked long enough and that was when it hit me that you were gone, but my eyes were never dry. Autism makes it hard for him to understand emotions, but I could tell Josh understood you were gone after they opened the casket. Mourning all together in that room is the closest I've felt with my cousins. That was the first and only time since. I guess corpses don't smile.
It's hard for me to hear your sweet southern accent anymore. I'm growing older and because of that, your voice is slipping my mind. I thank my lucky stars that I interviewed you in 9th grade and recorded your voice. Thank you for that. I don't think you can send letters to heaven, but I'm hoping maybe you'll have Wi-Fi and a computer to look at this.
Sometimes I imagine your face and your laugh, and when you'd tell me, "I sure love you, hun." And because of that recording, I'm forever grateful, because your sweet southern accent will never truly be gone.
I hope you're doing okay. I miss you Grandma.
Love,
Annie
It's been a while and for that I'm sorry. I wish you could see the person I've become. I got accepted to college the other week and I'm going to Utah State in the Fall. I hope you're proud of me. Things are changing every day. Most of your children don't talk to each other now, but some are starting to connect back with Papa. You were the glue, Grandma. You were love and warm hugs. You were joy, laughter, and big smiles. You were compassion, and everything good in the world.
I miss you every day.
After you left, some of them forgot. They forgot about the goodness. They wrote their goodness on you and buried it down deep the same day you were. It's a shame, just because you weren't here to remind them everyday about all the goodness, that they had to go and hide it away. But like I said, some of them are starting to remember. They grabbed their shovels and dug up the grave where their hearts lied, they begged for redemption because what they had wasn't what they really wanted. Now, their hearts are a little dusty, but I believe they still beat.
I miss you every day.
I worry that me and my siblings will end up like them. Lonely, sad, grey. They are the color grey, and you were radiant as the sun. My mom reminds me a lot of you. She's stayed by Papa's side through all of this, but some of her sisters haven't spoken to her since that day. That was almost 4 years ago, Grandma. 4 years. 4 years...
4 years, 2 grand children, 8 great grand children.
I miss you every day.
It was closed casket. But they opened it for the family right before we went out for the funeral. My mom said you could tell who was looking the longest by who was crying the hardest. I couldn't look for very long, Grandma. I looked long enough and that was when it hit me that you were gone, but my eyes were never dry. Autism makes it hard for him to understand emotions, but I could tell Josh understood you were gone after they opened the casket. Mourning all together in that room is the closest I've felt with my cousins. That was the first and only time since. I guess corpses don't smile.
I miss you.
It's hard for me to hear your sweet southern accent anymore. I'm growing older and because of that, your voice is slipping my mind. I thank my lucky stars that I interviewed you in 9th grade and recorded your voice. Thank you for that. I don't think you can send letters to heaven, but I'm hoping maybe you'll have Wi-Fi and a computer to look at this.
I miss you Grandma.
Sometimes I imagine your face and your laugh, and when you'd tell me, "I sure love you, hun." And because of that recording, I'm forever grateful, because your sweet southern accent will never truly be gone.
I hope you're doing okay. I miss you Grandma.
Love,
Annie
Lovely.
ReplyDeleteI can tell how much you love your grandma in this; you made me love her too.
ReplyDeleteThis Is beautiful.
ReplyDeleteI'm in Vegas and I'm cold.
ReplyDeleteIt's almost 80 degrees here and I'm cold.
This was beautiful. This is why not having pen names is so powerful. So important.
I hope she had wifi too.