For Aunt Violet
(the Last of my 'Greats')
I remember her as I saw her last - last October -
when the sky was grey over Pittsburgh and we
gathered to say goodbye to my Great Uncle.
She, who was his life-line for those last thirty-some years, his
dutiful and devoted care-giver, she
wore a navy suit and her comfortable shoes, apologizing for
them as though we could be offended by her footwear.
Still talking a steady stream, leaving little unsaid
my funny Aunt Violet -
small and fragile and feather-light, with
years of worry told in soft folds on her sweet face.
I dreamed dreams for her then - her nursing days done -
hoping for laughter and little adventures, good things she
so goodly deserved; relaxation and overdue rest.
Six months down what perhaps was so
lonesome a road, she made it to her eternal rest.
And now I say goodbye to her, too, and wish her well, the dear soul.
And now I ache for adventures that should have been hers here.
And now I hope for a peace that may be hers always.
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