Today I hesitated at the door of Number 416
A personal memorial service
During my last visit to this room

Grandma was not here this time
Had not been here for more than three weeks now
But maybe there were still echoes
As if her oxygen machine had been left on

It was odd, this pause
This place never felt quite like home
Until perhaps today

So I stood, memories mixing like tapioca and peaches
I stood, saying good-bye, saying a prayer
Releasing us both into the tender care of Jesus
“God be with you ’til we meet again.”

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