Lola, a Grandmother

How we remember anyone really is momentary. They travel in and out of our minds like weary sojourners of this world. It is an unexpected thought, their face across the vast screen in our heads, as perfect as any. An ideal pictorial even if we know what age and time has done to their bodies.

Briefly, I remember everything even from a distance. The influence of a loved one who is part of my memory forever. Her unrelenting devotion to God was admirable and this was her legacy. A grandmother who took to the rosary as though the beads were extensions of her fingers, reciting them day and night until she could no longer; she attended church until she could no longer and then, finally, in the confines of her home, in a rocking chair, she seemed forever in meditation. Not once did she allow that hold on God to loosen. And in the end, God would have her be taken care of with dignity, love and respect… how we all ideally would like to be taken care of. My grandmother lived in a humble home, but spiritually she was so wealthy that she didn’t need much of anything. Love, fundamentally, filled her up. She emitted this and I shall, for the remaining days of my life, miss her. I love you, Lola. God Bless! Until our spirits meet again… love, light and peace be with you.

the flood is mercy upon
this drought. she does
not understand death
is relief from pain—
the million ways we
suffer to earn one minute
of bliss with Him. oneness
is earned, not bought
and she won’t grasp it
until she escapes into
the next; how much of her
soul will be renewed,
how much power her life’s
devotion to God would
reverberate and exude

-mr gahon 1/12/15


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