Monday Mourning

I can't quite catch my breath
in moments of sadness,
but oxygen comes in waves of joy
like the lyrics in the hymns you sang-
like the bellowing organ notes you played.

I am torn between grief, for you, my grandmother,
whose middle name matches mine,
but rejoicing that you're finally at peace
at the same time.

I said goodbye once,
when dementia carried you away.
Do I say goodbye again,
or celebrate your freedom
from confusions grip today?

I choose the latter.

I will fall back
on days of strawberry mash
and singing to the melody your fingers
danced on the piano
not so long ago.

I choose, celebration, over sorrow.

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