This is a poem I wrote back in 2006, after my grandmother, “Gram”, died. I read it at her memorial service. She broke her hip one afternoon, and while in the hospital, it got infected, and she passed away.
Watching Over Me: To Gram:
You’re watching over me from up in heaven,
Which I hear they call God’s kingdom,
I’m always wondering what it’s like up there,
Now more than ever—they say it’s beautiful…..
This heaven I’d like to know what you think, Gram,
I hope you’re happy with your new job of watching over me—it’s a big task,
It’s not for the faint at heart,
But then you never were faint at heart,
You were feisty,
And we always knew you were hanging on,
If you could ask questions of the doctor,
I still expect you to come toddling over to our house with the mail or something,
Stay happy, watch over me, and I love you, Gram.