A great loss

My great grandmother, Bregida, passed away on Saturday at the age of 99. She was a woman who was honest, spiritual, humble, hard-working, caring, joyous and gave one of the best hugs in the world. She tought me so many things througout my childhood and life and many parts of who I am today are because of her. Rarely do you get to ever meet a great grandparent, but I was lucky enough to spend 26 years in her presence.

In her memory is this poem that reminds me of her by e. e. cummings.

i am a little church(no great cathedral)

far from the splendor and squalor of hurrying cities

-i do not worry if briefer days grow briefest,

i am not sorry when sun and rain make april

my life is the life of the reaper and the sower;

my prayers are prayers of earth's own clumsily striving

(finding and losing and laughing and crying)children

whose any sadness or joy is my grief or my gladness

around me surges a miracle of unceasingbirth and glory and death and resurrection:

over my sleeping self float flaming symbols

of hope,and i wake to a perfect patience of mountains

i am a little church(far from the franticworld with its rapture and anguish)

at peace with nature-i do not worry if longer nights grow longest;

i am not sorry when silence becomes singing

winter by spring,i lift my diminutive spire to

merciful Him Whose only now is forever:

standing erect in the deathless truth of His presence

(welcoming humbly His light and proudly His darkness)