Goodbye, Grandma Poem by Robin Bennett

I remember when Grandma died
as if was yesterday. It's been
twenty years already, and I
can't forget even one detail.

Grandma called Mom early
that morning, to say she was
dying. She was only ninety three
years old back then.

Family took to the old time
push button phones-
and called scattered relatives.
How did we manage? To think
we could have spread the
horrible news in a massive tweet.
Thank God for the coldness
of mass communication!

One crisp night as I sat with her,
she touched me with her
frail, bloodless hand. Tugging
at me like a scared toddler, she
whispered " please child, take
my wedding ring now." All I
noticed was how she
finally looked old. Her
hair had turned to
snow.

I sat staring at her that Sunday,
night in spring. It was just her-
and I. Determined to remember,
everything about her face,
before life leaked out.
I believe she had left earlier and,
her body stayed behind for a bit. Just-
so everyone could say goodbye.
She was so very unselfish
that way.

I took that simple gold band that
night, just like she asked of me.
Grandpa gave it to her before Titanic
I intend to wear it until a child of-
mine slips it off my dying hands.