Over the years I have written her letters and poetry, and made this page. It has been five years now if I figure the math right. So this year I have done something new. As children we would make her birthday cards by hand. Since it fell on Groundhog's Day we very often made the birthday cards reflect that. It may have been silly, but you could always tell how much she appreciated it.

That was my plan for this year as well. However, as I sat down to paint, all i could think about were the roses she loved so much. So that is what I made. I wrote a letter inside the card and have posted both here if anyone is interested in looking at them.

Here is the poem I wrote for her in 1994.

In Memory: a Letter to a Loved One

In my dreams I meet you
In the memory of how you were
Just as it makes me happy
The sadness of the lie breaks through.
I awaken alone.
"It's not real," I tell myself.
"She's truly gone," I say.
Why does it have to be like this
The longing to see you
To talk to you
So much has happened
Since the day you left our lives
I want so much to share it with you
Every bit of the joy,
Every bit of the pain.
She's two months old now, Grandma.
That's what I want to say.
He's wonderful to me, Grandma.
I know you would understand.
You would talk to me
Smile and laugh,
Just as you used to do.
I dreamed of you last night, Grandma
Of how you used to be
But the sadness of true life broke through
"It's not true," I said,
"Because you're gone,
Except in me."

Copyright (C) Shelah Dinwiddie 1994

- This is my grandmother. Of course this is a very old picture of her as I am the twerp there on her lap. However she always looked this way. I'd like sometime to post more images of her, however, she didn't have many.

Below is a poem I found on the net that has been passed around to those in grief or in need of reassurance for their loved ones.

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow;
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain;
I am the gentle autumn's rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush.
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds circled in flight.
I am the soft star that shines at night...
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there...I did not die.
(Author Unknown)

If you have any poetry or stories that seem fitting to this, I would love to see them. I also would love to add links to other pages that pay tribute to late loved ones.