I remember the day...

I remember the day my grandfather died.
My grandmother was by his side
for the last moments.  Soon we
were there.  This is what I can't unsee:

My grandmother shocked in stoned Silence.
My aunt and mother's face: Violence.
My cousin tried everything to hide.
My grandfather, his mouth was open wide.

Was his mouth screaming in Agony?
Or in awe of the blissful Free-
dom of the Afterlife?  His last
words shut off too soon, too fast?

Or was he just gasping for
his last Breath, but there was no more?
It was the final Realization
that we do or do not have Salvation.
     

I remember the day he was buried
as I struggled to keep parried
the Tears bursting from my Eyes
as I wondered, "For what?" Everyone dies.

I played the Piano for him that day.
I hope he heard - he Loved the way
I played.  I messed up "Amazing Grace."
Was it the tears going down my Face?

Watching my grandmother say her Goodbyes.
The last Look, she touched his Eyes.
She kissed his Face - patted his Chest.
Making sure he was looking his best.