Dinner with parents
John and I went to OOB last night to have dinner with my parents. We hadn't seen them since early March and since we live 20 minutes away figured it was probably time, yes? And they're closing on the house at the end of the month, so they had a rocking chair for us (the one my brother and I were rocked in as babies) and a couple of other small things.
Dinner was nice... visiting was nice...
After dinner and pie, Mom and I curled up on the couch and spent an hour or so looking through photographs. Pictures of my Mom as a young woman, pictures from their wedding, pictures of me and Sean as kids, and growing up, graduations and things.
Lots of pictures of cats *grins*
Then pictures of Nanna's apartment in Florida, and pictures of Grampa's funeral. She found a picture of him from a few years ago that she gave to me, along with a little card from the funeral, with a poem which he chose a few weeks before he died. It made us both cry, but... it was nice to sit together with my Mom and look at the past, and it was nice to cry together for him. It was the gentle, quiet kind of crying, and with her right beside me it was ok.
Do Not Stand By My Grave And Weep
I Am Not Dead, I Do Not Sleep.
I Am A thousand Winds That Blow,
I Am A Diamond Glint On Snow.
I Am The Sunset On Ripened Grain,
I Am The Gentle Autumn Rain.
When You Awake In The Autumn Hush,
I Am The Swift Uplifting Rush.
Of Quiet Birds In Circling Flight,
I Am The Soft Starshine At Night.
Do Not Stand By My Grave And Cry,
I Am Not There, I Did Not Die.
I can't find an author for it...
Dinner was nice... visiting was nice...
After dinner and pie, Mom and I curled up on the couch and spent an hour or so looking through photographs. Pictures of my Mom as a young woman, pictures from their wedding, pictures of me and Sean as kids, and growing up, graduations and things.
Lots of pictures of cats *grins*
Then pictures of Nanna's apartment in Florida, and pictures of Grampa's funeral. She found a picture of him from a few years ago that she gave to me, along with a little card from the funeral, with a poem which he chose a few weeks before he died. It made us both cry, but... it was nice to sit together with my Mom and look at the past, and it was nice to cry together for him. It was the gentle, quiet kind of crying, and with her right beside me it was ok.
Do Not Stand By My Grave And Weep
I Am Not Dead, I Do Not Sleep.
I Am A thousand Winds That Blow,
I Am A Diamond Glint On Snow.
I Am The Sunset On Ripened Grain,
I Am The Gentle Autumn Rain.
When You Awake In The Autumn Hush,
I Am The Swift Uplifting Rush.
Of Quiet Birds In Circling Flight,
I Am The Soft Starshine At Night.
Do Not Stand By My Grave And Cry,
I Am Not There, I Did Not Die.
I can't find an author for it...