I Am A Dreamer But I Cannot Run

It's Grandma's 3rd death anniversary today, and here's something I wrote 3 years back, a first first-hand experience with death at 19 years old, documenting her passing - from us visiting her, to her passing on a Saturday night to her Sunday morning funeral wake.

Everything that happens, there's always a lesson to learn.

***

Written on 7 Nov 2010

For my Grandma: 
Departed 6 Nov 2010 

I am a dreamer, but I cannot run.

It's a Friday and we gather to see
Altogether.
She is unmoving, but faultless.
Speechless, but clearly speaks.
There is no sound but I feel the voices
ringing still and clear.
There are no words.
Are you waiting Popo?

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound"
We sing and laugh, we clap
We sing songs of our childhood, of our youth.
Your fist clenches and we know you know
who we are, and the harmonies we bring
lull you to sleep.
In reverse. Back in reverse.
Popo, will you sing with us?

What can make you stay?

Saturday.
Back to the routines, our routines of smiles
We hear what is needed, the countless calls &
public announcement.
Pause to look at ourselves -
Our faces on capture, previously smiling.
I am embarrassed.
What is this feeling that grips me inside, that
Holds me captive?
I tremble, I laugh in fear, I do not
know the knots loosening in my
still blood-red pulsating heart.
A symphony of thumping noises with an outlier
I do not know this unknown I have not seen myself
and one is slowing down, so slowly I can't detect it.

White hexagon and silver crosses
Flowers enough to fill a forest
It is a quiet day, a quiet Sunday morning.
Your bible is unwrapped, your glasses gathered
We are putting you together.

Prayer and peace comes together.
Now your face is pink and framed in white
It looks healthy.
I wish I could know you a little better.
Shame, you were on one side, I on the other,
and both too stubborn to reach out to one another.

How much would this cost? Money cannot purchase.

We do few things well.
But surely out of all things, we do this best.

One's necessary lone experience.

We may be dreamers. But we cannot run.