Grief

Grandma held your hand awhile and cried.
How strange to leave for coffee,
Just to the kitchen,
And return to a shell,
Warm with faded life.
I learned it over the phone.
Emotions flood, remembering
Trips to Dairy Queen before dinner, the
Green sandbox you made for my world of
Tonka Trucks, and that cat peeing in the sand.
You had so much junk.
Oxygen tanks, walkers, and wheelchairs.
Things that reveal nothing of Grandpa.
I will miss you, but I joyfully turn you over to
A place where there is no
Illness, no Blindness, no Artificial Limbs.
I know you will be busy there too,
Repairing the stairs,
Oiling the gates,
Smoothing the way for the rest of us.

          NICOLE HARDINA