RIP Grama (me me D, Dee Dee) 6.2.26 to 6.9.08

This poem has a rhythm and a rhyme. It's hard to follow when you read it unless you know exactly how I intended it to sound. And for those that knew my grandmother...they would know exactly what I was trying to say with the poem. Basically, Grama died, but the world went on, as it always does...except for those she loved and those that loved her, their world would never be the same; her death affected them greatly. My Grama had something about her that most people don't: she loved unconditionally and never judged me (the part about her loving without condition and without shame). No matter how many times I screwed up, made mistakes, made bad choices, or just did plain old stupid things...she still loved me and never judged me. I did a lot to hurt my Grandmother too but she forgave me and loved me anyway. If I could go back, I'd never have done anything to hurt her. I could tell her ANYTHING and when she promised to keep it a secret, she did! I don't think I'll ever find someone who will love me the way she did.


You were laid to rest
while loved ones wept.
There were tears of denial,
and a refusal to accept.
But as days went by,
the snow fell softly
and the clouds still rained.
But for those you loved,
and the souls you touched,
the world inside them,
held hearts that hunched.
For the way you loved...
was without condition and without shame,
and our lost and broken hearts,
could never be the same.