Grandma lived her loves. She took effort and initiative to pursue and enjoy what brought her the most pleasure: family and friends, good food, fishing, nature, ceramics, nice things and good books. (Up until a few months ago, Grandma was a regular patron of the Mooresville library, often reading a couple of books a week!) Many of David's and my loves today were influenced by Grandma and Grandpa's loves. (They introduced me to a love of birds, for those who know that about me.) What we love says much about us. What Grandma loved gave shape to her beautiful soul and beautiful life.
Two hours before Grandma died, David witnessed a peculiar, once-in-a-lifetime sight. He was shoveling snow, heard a loud, wild sound above his head and saw 50 or more white egret flying in an arc. They were heading southwest (the direction of Mooresville). After we found out that Grandma had died, he reflected on that experience and wrote this poem. He gave me permission to share it with you.