"Hi Brennan" (A Eulogy to my Grandma)

"May I buy a vowel please?"

"Uh, well, yes, there's three of those!"

Ding, Ding, Ding!

I remember these sounds,

and your smile, eyes glittering with joy,

watching wheel of fortune on a high school night with me,

wondering how you always knew the answers

without looking at the T.V., knitting non-stop

needles singing and shimmying against each other.

I remember your Simmy and Sammy bed-time stories,

how they fed my imagination with imaginary worlds,

and how I could never recall the last few words of each night's story,

because the touch of your hand on my shoulder

was enough to lull me to peaceful sleep.

I remember the smell of your duppa,

the comedy of colors on everyone's Christmas sweaters,

the crackling of wrapping paper,

the kids' bug-eyed looks of anticipation...

Then a frigid train ride to Chicago Christmas tree awe,

and the sugar cookies I stole from your kitchen, warm and soft from the oven.

A smile instead of a frown, milk instead of a "no."

I know of your ceaseless love of God

and the sad joy you carried in your heart of Carl's passing.

Or the faith you had to keep your family safe during partition,

and the shake of your head when your two silly boys would sled down the hills of Murray.

I remember you pinching me when my dad preached,

(with a smile of course, that famous Davis smile)

and how a yummy lemon drop would fall into my palm

for every part of the service I could keep still through.

I remember your Bonneville SS,

and its fresh leather smell, terrible power and unquenchable speed.

"Do you need me to drive you anywhere today Gram?" (wink wink)

I remember the smell of your Park Circle hallways

how it felt like home to run to your door,

how it felt like home to see your smile spread ear to ear,

how I have never seen you unhappy,

how you have never for a moment stopped loving me,

your Peanut.

Go in peace grandma, and tell grandpa you're home.

I love you.