A whirling wind uplifts a leaf
Brings childish laughter midst my grief
And though my sorrow tears at me
There’s also room for Lana’s glee.
Some said, “Don’t take her to the grave”
Why force the young to be so brave
When faced with fate? She seems okay
As long as leaves and winds will play.
And then Grandmother looks our way
I see the wrinkles, grief, and gray
But see the twinkle in her eyes
As she sees Lana’s fingers rise
To catch that leaf that seems to fly
Into my daughter’s hands; I sigh
Her laughter sounds; what can I do
Then I hear Grandpa laughing, too.
My laughing Lana played her part
For I heard Grandma’s “Bless her heart.”
And knew in mine that more than I
My daughter knew when not to cry
Yes, tears will come on future days
When we remember Grandpa’s ways
But not today—let sorrow wait
While Grandpa’s life we celebrate.