the last days

Death is an inevitability.
You know that, I know that.
Even when it is your grandmother.

There are there only two things that change,
The tears in your eyes and sadness in your heart.
Because she happens to be your grandmother.

You have seen here her before,
She stared death down and dismissed him.
But this time you know she will not walk away.

She’s had a wonderful life – you reassure yourself,
She might be old enough – you try and reason through this.
It still hurts; no one wants to lose their grandmother.

If it wasn’t this, it would be something else, some other time.
It’s an inescapable inevitability for everyone you have ever met.
Knowing all of this does very little good; she’s your grandmother.

And as much as it bothers you, as much as it hurts you,
You can hardly imagine what your own mother feels.
Or how your grandfather can sit there without constantly sobbing.

Because your grandmother is her only mother.
And your grandmother happens to be the very love of his life.
As personal as it feels, this is hardly about how you feel at all.

There is absolutely nothing anyone can do,
Even you, who often has so many of the answers,
You can only make her last days more comfortable.

So, you make her a pie. You kiss her when you see her.
More than anything, you let her know you love her.
Yes, because she is your grandmother, but also because…

In fact, she was so much to so many.
That’s exactly why it hurts so terribly.
You make the very most of those last days.

That is all you can do.

2 Responses

  1. sue says:

    This is the most beautiful poem I have ever read.
    It is so true. I miss my Mom!

  2. Jeffrey Miller says:

    Your poem touched my heart. I will think back to your words for strength when it is my heartache when the time comes to say goodbye to my love ones. I too miss your Grandmother, we had some good chats together.

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