A little more tired at close of day
A little less anxious to have our way
A little less ready to scold and blame
A little more care for a brother's name
And so we are nearing the journey's end
Where time and eternity meet and blend
The book is closed and prayers are said
And we are a part of the countless dead
Thrice happy there if some soul can say,
"I live because she has passed this way."
This sounds a little morbid, but I have a feeling it was written soon after my grandfather died. I'm reading her journals. She was pretty sad for a long while. She wrote that she didn't want to let anyone know how sad she was because she didn't want to make them sad. I know how she feels about this.
I can honestly say that I do live because she passed this way, and not just because she was my grandmother, but because she was my role model, mentor, teacher of sewing, and a great and real Southern Lady!