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Writer's pictureRebecca Moorhead

[Poetry] A Loss of Words, Grandmother and Motivation

Updated: Oct 24, 2020

“Hugs”, “hugs” and “prayers to you”

“Thinking of you and your family.”

“I’m sorry to hear the news.”

We recite these lines,

As if they make a swish

It’s the media version of bringing over a hotdish.

While the attention feels nice,

the pain does not go away

A beloved soul will still be missing at every holiday.

I thank you for your concern

And the positive thoughts too

But today, me and “my loved ones” bathe in the blues.

---

Gather my presents and look under the tree,

there appears to be an extra gift

assigned to Becca; that’s me!

Sometimes she disguised the wrapping,

most the time it was a bag.

But I always knew who bought for me

by the thoughtful name on the tag.

I never made a holiday,

rarely sat beside her chair.

Each day, we expressed our love.

I could tell she really cared.

I’ll miss my additional Grandma.

Her honesty was my light.

Each time I’ll hear her voice

when I tell someone to “Go fly a kite.”

Rest with our loved ones.

Make sure to tell them hi!

I’m sorry I never got the chance,

to say our formal goodbye.

---


There is no rhyme or reason

when it's grieving season.

People don't make sense.

We're all under a false pretense.


Our attitudes change

in the blink of an eye.

It's important to remember,

we're all giving our best try.


Give people their time

and respective space.

There is no blueprint

for each sorrowful case.




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