She is gone.

"You can shed tears that she is gone

Or you can smile because she has lived

You can close your eyes and pray that she will come back

Or you can open your eyes and see all that she has left

Your heart can be empty because you can't see her

Or you can be full of the love that you shared

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday

Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday

You can remember her and only that she is gone

Or you can cherish her memory and let it live on

You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back

Or you can do what she would want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on."

Written 1981

David Harkins 1959 -

Silloth, Cumbria, UK

My Grandma gives me a copy of this poem

because she thinks I can relate it to Jenny.

I read it through, twice, before looking up from

the sheet of paper and acknowledging her gift.

I realize, after a whole year and sixteen days,

that this is the poem Jenny's grandchildren read

in front of the entire, too-many-people-congregation

at the celebration of Jenny's life.

At least one hundred and fifty people packed into a

tiny box church to wish her farewell and to celebrate

everything she bought to the world - to meet with

others she loved; to thank God for blessing us

with such a wonderful friend, sister, daughter, mother, Grandmother...

and I smile, widely through tears and

I throw my arms around my own Grandma

who stands in front of me, unsure whether

I'm going to cry with sadness or

shout cries of joy.

I stare at her as if I was seeing her for the

first time in my life.

I still have my Grandma - both of them.

And I have my Grandads, too.

In this moment of appreciation and gratitude,

Love; passion; faith,

I thank the Lord that I do.

I thank the Lord that Jenny was,

in some ways my third Grandma.

I thank him for everything she taught me,

and pray that she may still be watching over us,

hearing the things she never had time to see.

She'll be sitting there - and don't tell me otherwise,

I've seen her name written across the skies.

On her little wicker-wood chair on a cloud

somewhere, pretending oh-so-quietly not to be there.
I pray that he lets her know that we love her,

because I think she's too far to hear it if we shout it.

I read the poem again,

a little flicker of faith burning in my soul.

I know that I can let her go now,

because I can smile in spite of my fear; my grief.
I can love her still,

for she is here in my heart -

she is here in everything I do.

I see her everywhere.

I might never need to say goodbye

because she is here in my heart

and in the back of my mind.

None of her could I ever leave behind -

so I'll sit back and close my eyes,

kick off my shoes and unwind.

I love Jenny.

And I love my Grandma for caring enough to realise that I needed her so much.