Her Love

It sounded like laughter
like loud exclamations of love
It sounded like birthday celebrations, every year, 
no matter the space between us

Her love was so great that 
no distance, not even hundreds of miles
could tame it.

Her love was breakfasts too large 
for one visiting grandchild
bacon, eggs, and pancakes piled high

Her love was sharing the quiet
of a sleeping house 
and late-night television
with a granddaughter who, also, was a night owl.

Her love isn’t a “was”
Her love IS
It’s in the warmth found
on a cold day
It’s a hug that takes all worries away
It’s in food
made with care
It’s in the act
of just being there.

It’s strong and enduring
and ready to be carried with us
Shared. Passed along.
Do as she would:
live and love fiercely.

As red as the lipstick
left behind from countless kisses,
it will color my heart
for the rest of my life. 

RIP Nana <3