Grandma Watterson

Written 29 years ago, after Grandma died.

I dreamt that heaven’s hosts were singing
In a different, special way;
Every voice in rapture ringing
In a different, special way.

I stopped to hear, and wondered why
Their song seemed sweeter, more sublime;
And then I saw a soul draw nigh
And bow before the Lord of Time.

I saw my grandma place her crown
Before His feet in humble praise;
I saw His pierced hand reach down,
And heaven hushed beneath His gaze.

Her praise was silent, pure and fervent,
As I heard Him gently say:
“Well done, good and faithful servant”.
Then I saw Him turn my way.

“Would you rather take her back”, He said,
“To face the pains and tears of life?
Dry your tears, My son, and think instead
Of all the joys of her new life”.

I awoke, then, and understood
That she is resting now in peace.
Oh Lord! Hasten, please, the glorious day
When all these partings shall have ceased.

(1990)
© W. J. Watterson