To Grammie with love

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
Then someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!"
"Gone where?"
Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!" there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: 'Here she comes!"
And that is dying.
Henry Van Dyke

I found this poem and instantly thought of Grammie Hazel. She was never one to think herself "beautiful", but I found her to be the most beautiful person on the inside. She was a loving grandmother, caring and thoughtful. She recounted a few days ago with Jason about our first meeting in May of 1996. I had nearly forgotten that we asked her to lunch and she was unable to attend. Since then I have laughed with her. Learned from her. Mourned with her. Rejoiced with her. Any finally, just enjoyed her. Serving her as a caretaker was easy because she was so thankful. Sometime there were challenges as she would resist help, not wanting to be a burden. I would tell her that it was no problem, and for her nothing was too difficult to do. In my heart it made me happy to hear that she would not let others help saying, "I'll wait for Mindy." Knowing that she could depend on me felt good. It was when I KNEW that she considered me every bit of family as her own bio grandkids. Not an easy feat. She loved her family and cared about their lives. I have to say that in my heart she has created a template for an attribute that I aspire to, enduring to the end. She would be in agonizing pain and just "buck up". In her last few days her eyes were more telling about the level of pain that she was in, but her mouth wouldn't utter it. As I wiped her tears today all I could say was that I was sorry she hurt. It was difficult to look at her without feeling a wash of overwhelming compassion fill your heart. Truly elect in many ways. She chose to live everyday without complaint. I think that is why up until the very end she could smile. I know she knew she was loved. I hope that she watches over me and my family with love and tells Joseph all about his family on earth. She is beloved to me and will always be my Grammie Hazel.