Ode to Alice Fay (aka Ms. Perfect)

We found out one month in advance
that you’d shortly depart this life.
As crazy as this might sound,
it was a blessing in disguise.
We got to make peace with the fact that
you’d soon forever be shutting your eyes.
We remained rooted in each moment,
despite our tears and grief-stricken cries.
The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen
was how my mother would look at you.
It was like she was memorizing your face
and giving you permission to be finished, too.
But, I’m mostly in awe of the fact of
how Papa continued to sleep with you each night.
He was genuinely head over heels for you.
You were his life’s light.
Papa and I sat together at the viewing
on the front-row pew.
He just kept commenting on how beautiful you were
as we sat there and stared at you.
My mother was wearing your lotion.
That rose scent permeated the air.
I couldn’t hold back the tears of course,
because it was as if you were still there.
The thing that amazes me the most
about this thing that we call living
is the giddy anticipation of the entrance
and the sorrow in the abrupt ending.
That line in the sand has been drawn,
where what was before, will never be again.
The stroke of a hand made it hard to endure
never going back again.
So, I kissed your face as much as I could,
knowing the end was ever-nearing.
You stared at me for long periods of time
with a love that was so enduring.
You watched me grieve for you daily
as you slowly slipped away.
But, you did it with such grace and class
in your true, Ms. Perfect way.
So, here’s a massive thank you.
For, my grandmother you’ll always be.
I’m comforted and contented in the fact that
there’s a lot of you in me.
I really could keep going,
as there’s just so much to say.
But I’ll end it with a simple I love you
and my Ode to Alice Fay.