To: the strange way the word "Eulogy" could feel in your mouth

To: waking up, nose before eyes on mornings

To: the brew of Hong Wing coffee and mini bakes called 'breggedaire'

To: the wooden rocking chair shifting back and forth in the living room

To: wanting to watch meh cartoons during 700 Club, and never being able to bargain with you.

To: the miracle of cherry juice from the backyard to the blender

To: your fingers, not being able to comb meh hair from arthritis

To: having to write this and not being able to be there

To: the length of your doll-curled hair

To: the legacy of Bigen hair-dye in our family

To: the doilies, from your crochet

To: how much age can slow you down

To: the caraille in your plate

To: the way life could taste bitter sometimes

To: the creases on either side of your eyes

To: watching your tablets increase,

To: "My darling you are growing older"

To: the belly-deep laughter in your smiles

To: the sight, of you in the gallery every afternoon

To: watching your transition from walk to wheels to wings

To: the way you sing "Mother's Eyes"

To: The way your eyes look like my mother's

To: going for pension after midday mass on Wednesdays

To: the lesson on vex money

To: making me think I could make pastelle successfully

To: the last time you hugged me from your bed

To: the annoying tangle of mosquito nets

To: the end, of an era in you.

To: wanting that you rest now,

To: wanting to thank you

and To: falling asleep only to rise on that Morning.

To: the grandmother we had in you.

-Arielle M John

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