A Letter To Heaven


Dear Grandma,

I miss you so, so much already. I’ve been crying tonight, playing back voicemails you left me, just to be able to hear your warm voice, with its soft Boston accent. I’ve tracked down all the pictures I could find of us together and gotten angry at myself for not taking more.

It’s been less than a week since I heard your voice for the very last time, but it feels unbearably long.

I know you would tell me not to cry, that you’re not in pain anymore and that you’ll see me again someday, but right now, I just want to be able to hug you one more time and breathe in your smell, the smell of home, of safety, of unconditional love. 

I’m scared, Grandma. I know you would tell me to trust God and have faith, but I’m afraid that heaven isn’t real and that this really is the end. Or, worse yet, that eternity does exist, but that I’ll end up on the wrong side of the chasm, never to see you again. I can’t bear that thought. It haunts me.

I hope with all I am that heaven is real, that right now you are laughing with TiTi and Uncle Henry and all the other loved ones we have lost. I imagine you holding your very first great grandchild with love in your eyes, the baby I lost all those years ago.

I know I should be grateful for all the years we had, for the adventures, the wonderful memories. So many moments I’ll never forget. And I am, but I’m selfish, too. I wanted more. I wanted your little namesake, my daughter, to get to know you like I did. I wanted you to see her grow up. There’s so many things I wish I had known how to say, like you how much you mean to me, how much you’ve shaped who I am, and who I hope I’ll become. I know I tried to tell you, but my words were so inadequate in comparison to the enormity of how I feel.

The last words we said to each other on the phone are still echoing in my ears.

I said, “I love you, Grandma. I miss you. Talk to you soon.” 

And you said, “I know you do, Toni. I love you very much, too. Goodbye and God bless you.” 

I’m still saying the same thing, Grandma. With all the hope in my heart. I hope that this message gets passed on to you, but either way, I love you, I miss you, and I will talk to you soon, even if its just in my memories.

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Obsession

blocking my view

all that I see

something brand new

in front of me

chasing a high

excitement’s rush

makes me just fly

everything hush

time is a blur

gone in a blink

watch my brain whir

yet I can’t think

focused on this

lost in the drive

what did i miss

feeling alive

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I close my eyes

And something dies

Reality doesn’t match these lies

I speak with sighs

My heart won’t rise

Held down with hidden ties

I’m not awake

I cannot break

Can’t let go for your sake

Is it fake

This choice I make

To give and give and never take

I love you so

I hope you know

I pray you never meet my inner foe

I want you to grow

To shine and glow

To be who you are and let it show

Inner Turmoil

Innocence

Photo by Josh Withers on Unsplash

She climbs the stairs, she reaches high

So many new words to try

Her baby lips are asking why

Her eyes are watching everything

Never missing anything

The whole world is her plaything

No grasping here, she’s no Macbeth

She has no concept of death

Adventure calls with each new breath

When innocence is driving you

No guile in what you do

Is hope enough to see you through?

Grandma

Photo by Rod Long on Unsplash

Moments mapped on skin

Wrinkled, sun-kissed, thin

Years of hopes and dreams

Bursting at the seams

Wisdom in her eyes

Wistful tired sighs

As I reminisce

How can I say this

Silent, I sit here

Choking back a tear

So much is unsaid

Swirling in my head

Looking at her face

My heart trapped in place

Her arms were my nest

When I was distressed

She was always there

Strong and full of care

Is this our last hug

Quiet, safe, and snug

Not ready to grieve

I don’t want to leave

Maybe if I hide

Very deep inside

Time will stop and wait

Before it’s too late