She was 46 years plus 40,

Albeit, witty was her mind.

Eyes especially weary,

Unfocused, age made her blind.

A tongue filled with bitterness,

Yet toward me she was kind.

Nursing her in grand sickness,

A hand I gave genuine.

Many talks we engaged,

Sitting at the old table we would dine.

Old fashion beautiful placesettings,

Roses I picked from my vine.

Drawing in her widsom,

Listening deeply as she opined.

About life now and life then,

She prayed we’d all be fine.

Her days were abriged,

Surviving eight months or nine.

She passed last night not sad though,

Much she’s seen, lots of time.

Endless sunsets replaced by the moon,

Rain soaked rainbows the wonderful sunrise.

What a gift bestowed on me,

Her past, my future; 86 years of life.