All I have now – all that is left –
is a handful of mementos that your fingertips lingered on
long ago; magnifying glass, old college notes...
How can that be all of you?
And I was given a sweater, itchy wool.
I never saw you wear it but I am told it was yours and so
like a child with a blanket I clutch at it, desperate for something.
It makes my skin crawl.

At your funeral it was so cold
and my feet were so numb standing in the snow and I thought
“Won’t you be cold there?”
I stepped forward and asked the funeral home director
for a yellow flower please.
I laid it on your coffin and hoped it would at least remind you of warmth.

I am told you are still “with us” and you “live on in our hearts”
If this is true I will lend you my heartbeat
and pump into you some of my blood
and my breath going in and out and in again and again.
My lungs can be strong enough for the both of us
since yours were not even strong enough for you.

I was the only one
Who you never taught to fish
Because I didn't want to learn
That weekend we were at the lake
It was your 80th birthday
And I said
Maybe next time
Not knowing
That there wouldn't be a next time
But that weekend was still my favorite
At the top of the list
Of all of the weekends I've ever had
Because I spent it outside
With the people whose blood would match mine
If they were to fall
On those stone steps
That look like God put them there himself
Surrounded by the most beautiful trees
Leading to the shimmering blue bowl
That He drinks from in the summer
In the blistering heat

You wouldn't say so
That He created this masterpiece
Now engraved at the front of my memory
But you called to the birds
Because you knew they would answer
And you swam in the bowl
Because you knew it would be cooler than the thick summer air
And you cast out your line
To see if the fish would come
And they did
But only to you

God speaks to those who will listen
And the fish come to those who know how to call them
Because the water and the forest and the fields and the sky
Were your church
And you prayed with your hands
When you tied the line
And whittled the wood
And you thanked with your eyes
When you watched the birds
And admired the trees
And you spread the Word
When you sang back to the insects
And called to the animals
As if you knew what you were saying to them

You came alive in nature
And it came alive with you
Not once did you complain
About the heat
Or the cold
Or the bugs
Or the waves
Or the weeds
Or the storms
You knew what would happen
And that it could not be controlled
Because nature had a plan
And that plan meant taking you
Earlier than we had liked
But not too early
For you lived your life completely
And now you are one with the earth
Perhaps Mother Nature
Did give birth to you
And now the breeze I smell
And the sun I see
And the birds I hear
And the grass I feel
Is you

You might not have taught me to call the fish
But you taught me to never stand with my back to the ocean
So it would not push me down
If you stand with your back to the ocean
You cannot see the waves
Breaking in their strength and glory
They will beg for your attention
Look at me
They cry
Look to the horizon
Going on forever
Watch the sun set
Watch the light slip away
There is darkness in this world
Face it, head on
Watch the stars start to shine
Your little pieces of light
Look for the moon
Almost as bright as the sun
Watch the sun set
Because tomorrow, it will rise

Today was the first time I saw my grandfather since his passing.
He had a chubbier face
and was behind the wheel of a red Toyota Camry
next to a woman who wasn't my grandmother.  
Becca was in the passenger seat beside me.  
She didn't see my knuckles turn white
as I gripped the steering wheel tighter.  
Then the light told me I could go.  
She didn't see tears fall as I accelarated into the intersection
when all I wanted to do was turn around follow
the man who wasn't my grandpa
in a car that wasn't his
to a house I'd never seen before
and wouldn't miss when I left.

Mind - tripping eyes subconsciously getting lost in grandfather clock.
Thoughts frolicking through fields that time could never stop.
From a lotus flower shinning bright from rejuvenation.
Born to all things new, putting the past in stagnation.
No matter the hardship, there's never a need to let petals start wilting over time elapsed.
Grandfather clock never stops, there's only so much vitamin d the day allows to grasp.
From this it's learned we must water our own apple blossom, one commonly missed,
As we search for the perfect bouquet of eternal bliss.
Yet it projects good fortune and releases hopeful vibes.
Grandfather clock couldn't let memory forget it, even if it were tried.
Apple blossom in hand, into daisy fields memory wallows about.
Holding tightly to what’s left of innocence, youth cannot run out.
What a gentle smell carried through the breeze, the sun with warmth to share.
When grandfather clock strikes a certain time, reflections will take me there.
When time is due, a valley is to be embraced.
Within which lay a single lily, in which happiness is grace.
Grace can be given all around, especially to those closest.
Even when you’re the only bud bloomed, the only lily floating on the surface.
In fact, the lily of the valley is grandfather clock’s key.
The only one to break through the surface; the code to set time free.
With not much else around, we work with what we’ve got.
But happiness doesn’t exist so give it another shot.
Happiness is something we must create; our own bouquet of eternal bliss.
So as grandfather clock tics & tocks…. tic…. tock…
I toss a single black rose at twelve on the dot…time stops.
Farewell may be forthcoming, but rebirth has already been assumed.
Thanks to you my bouquet has been created, my blissful soul has bloomed.

I've been to Heaven
and the Earth was right
Heaven is a broken lie
All things must wither and die

Fog and dew on grass
Stew left to boil
And night water mixed
With my homeland soil

His white flowing beard
And slight twinkle in eyes
Tanned arms and firm hands
And a deep, reaching voice

The faintest glow
Somewhat aquiline nose
His weather beaten face
And the strongest of brows

But I've been to heaven
And the Earth was right
Heaven is a broken lie
All things must wither and die

Choked morning with skies bent
With smoke and a sickly stench
And my grandfather's door
Which I didn't open anymore

I couldn't see him wilting
And catch his frame in decay
His cocoa eyes still beaming
As cancer took him away

And wouldn't it be biased
If I say it was untimely
And for such a pure soul
God and nature acted unkindly?

So what had to happen
Has happened and no change
Can be brought forth now
In God's ways so strange

And in the ashes beyond
The trees have taken root
On the windiest of days
Beside unripe fallen fruit

I've been to Heaven
and the Earth is right
Heaven is broken
All things must wither and die

His voice like the sky splitting open,
When a storm is just over head.
His smile is warm and crooked,
Framed by cheeks of rosy red.
Always to be found under the hood
Of a car being restored from old age.
Or a bench made of wood by a grand piano
Reading music from a hymnal's page.

The greatest example of a love for life;
Generous, kind, and forgiving.
Always thinking first of his wife,
As if she is the sole reason he's living.

But oh to hear him sing!
The sweetest tenor voice you've ever heard.
Hymns, carols, all sorts of things.
I would stand next to him and sing "Oh, my Lord"

He gave me a gift that is the best gift to give
The gift of a love for music
and the voice I use to sing it

You were always soft spoken
Whenever we came over you would sit in your big white chair with a heating pad
Everyone fought for that seat when you weren't in it
It was worn with your worries and woes
The heat taking away all of your aches and pains-at least temporarily

When we went to the lake you would take us fishing
Telling us that it was Canada or Michigan across the glistening waves
Zebra mussels always slicing through our toes making us stronger
But we collected the sea glass because after time someone's trash turned into our green and blue treasures

That mustard brown couch
The smell of scrambled eggs in the mornings when we would leave
The fresh tomato juice staring us down-you could finish a glass in two gulps

I will never meet a man who likes to take baths in the ocean
Who can swim so far without a sip of air

Your hands are rough and callused telling your past
Every bruise and scrape tells of your days fixing odds and ends
Working on the railroad

Your son called you resourceful
But in my mind you are an inventor-an artist
You built your homes with your bare hands
the cracks running along the walls
make it look homemade. Authentic
It matches the cracks of skin along your knuckles that tell the stories of your past

You look at the world through a kaleidoscope
Always finding some sort of positive light in the darkest corners
Always finding something to fix so it's in tip top shape

When the days turned into weeks and years the seasons took the best in you
The twinkle in your eye slowly dulled
And someone took away the spirit of you- my grandfather

The day your heart had too much to bear was my birthday
I came home to a frantic mother
We had piano lessons and the car ride felt like forever

The picture of us sat by my bedside every night until mom took it for you to look at

Your rough hands became smooth
your hair became long
Your cheeks sunk in
You slowly became a different man
But in my heart you were still the same confident soul

That night when you let all of your fears out so you could fly I finally accepted it
I told myself and The Lord that I would be alright without you by my side
Instead you would look down upon me and guide me

It was raining on that December 21st
I woke up to my parents gone and the house quiet

I went on a run
Thankful for the rain because I could cry and comfort myself without people noticing
That was one of the best runs I've ever had
It wasn't just a run--it made me think about life

It's funny that after a death we think about out own lives differently

I had to get my priorities straightened out
What do I want to be remembered for?

A caring mother
Bravery
Kindness
A best friend

Just like you
A fantastic father
Grandfather
Daredevil
Caring
Adventurous

If I die with half of the accomplishments you made, I will die a happy woman