We sat in the wind and watched the leaves flutter by
We spoke of the past, of dreams and loves lost.
Its quiet sitting there in the sun, she in her wheel chair,
me sitting beside her holding her hand.
She told me it wouldn’t be long, that she’d punched her ticket.
She said she wasn’t afraid, she said she had two husbands and a boyfriend she’d buried
waiting for her at the gates.
I told her I loved her and would miss her as I brushed the hair away from her quizzical eyes.
She told me not to fuss and that the next time I come not to bring her Key Lime Pie.
It’s been a year since my grandmother has passed, and on that next visit, that last day, I found myself
brushing aside her hair again.
She never made excuses; she never lied and never looked more beautiful, at peace, at rest.
I miss her today, and when I stand in the fall wind and close my eyes I can feel her all around me, she
will always be there, her voice carried in the breeze, her smile in rays of the sun.
Her love remains, as does mine.