31 Days of Liminality

Requiem; Here and Gone

I’ve said often, my grandmother lives in me. In many ways, I am more like my mother than my Granny, but Lucille lives in me.

I Love Fiercely

It was always clear to us that we were sheltered. We were bathed in the glow of her pride, the warmth of her smile, the fervor of her prayers. My children feel this, as does My Beloved and those closest to me.

When I go to War, I Win

I’m don’t poking sleeping dragons, and I can get past a whole lot to get things accomplished.

I am, by nature adverse to conflict. I don’t pick fights; I avoid them, unless confrontation cannot be avoided.

However, when conflict becomes inevitable, be warned. I fight to win.

I Remember Everything

I wish I didn’t, but I rarely miss a detail. Mostly it’s good. Other times, it’s a curse.

I remember the last time I heard you sing, Gran, Happy Birthday, nearly 6 years ago.

I remember you telling me that I had your strength, and being angry when I stopped capitulating to you, when we both knew I was right.

You trusted me, and you knew I’d catch hell for it. With your trust, neither if us gave a damn.

We laughed, a lot. We cried to, but we shared warrior tears, privately. We’d square our shoulders and get shit done.

“We’ll rest when we’re dead.

Your Legacy is Ensured

I could’ve named her Lucille. It’s what I often call her. She’s even now you than I am. She adores you. Emulates you. Walks like you.

The Force is Strong is Her

You are gone, and yet you are here. You live in Mom. I see your eyes smiling at me.

You live in me. Even your beloved grandson-in-law sees it.

You live in your fourth generation, and your legacy is assured.

You inhabit our days, and our lives. You’ve gone nowhere.

And of course, you had the last word.