A Granddaughter’s Farewell
Papoune,
I can already hear your voice:
“Start at the beginning, that’s a good place.”
It’s hard to imagine a world without you.
But perhaps that’s because
You’re still here.
You’re in the tomatoes and salads
We’ll harvest from the garden.
You’re in the hoots of the owls,
The creak of old floorboards,
The hiss of a too-hot soup with your voice echoing,
“It’s best when it’s hot!”
You’re in the way we talk too much during movies,
And the Auvergnats we’ll teach to future generations.
Most of all, you’re in our strength.
In your final days, you showed us:
Courage. Humor. Determination. Hope.
And I was never prouder to be your granddaughter.
You were a fighter, yes.
But not only that.
You were tenderness disguised as tough love,
Wisdom wrapped in wordplay,
And kindness disguised as cheese rinds for the birds.
Your puns will be mentioned again and again today.
But they’re only part of the magic.
The best tribute to you will be
When someone around the table makes a joke so “you”
We all pause and smile,
Certain you sent it from somewhere.
This is only goodbye for now.
Thank you for being the man you were.
And thank you for continuing to live in all the memories,
In all the seeds you planted in us.
We will carry you with us.
Always.
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