I have no memories of my grandmother
No photographs to cherish
We shared a birthday
But cancer stole her from this world
Before I could meet her.
I will never hear her voice
I will never hear her laughter
I will never know her sense of humour
I will never see her smile
Or her eyes sparkle
But I know that I would have loved her
And she would have loved me.
I have never visited Granny’s house
On a miserable rainy Saturday
Never been greeted with fresh baking,
Or a dinner she’d been cooking
And I sometimes feel sad
But I once heard someone ask
Why the best people always die too soon
The reply was that we are all beautiful flowers
And only the most special ones get picked first
It sounds like a stupid platitude
Something people say to console themselves
But in my Granny’s case it must have been true
Because none of my birthdays have passed by
Without me wishing she was still here.