posted on Jun, 2 2013 @ 01:07 PM
I imagine her playing with her older brothers,
laughing and giggling happy banter,
yelling and screaming with glee.
I see her independent little spirit
stand up in her defense,
holding her own against her brothers.
Lynnea Rose my darling grand daughter
you shine with the rest of the stars.
You were taken so young and so far.
I miss your little arms
and tiny hands I never held.
I miss your little face
I never got to kiss.
I miss so many things,
my empty knee that never got to give you a bounce,
my back that never became your horse,
my empty arms that never felt your warmth.
I will have to wait until
death no longer holds us apart.
Until then I will endure this grandpa pain.
I have not forgotten you,
nor will I ever.
You are my grand daughter,
so precious, so very precious.
For you have taught me this truth,
it is in the wounded heart we give birth to truth,
it is in the birthing pain we hear its cry
and recognize its voice.
I will cry until I hear your voice.