falcon, storm, song

Today we gather to remember the life of my Grandma Barb. My mom didn't call her mom but "frother" – a combination of friend and mother. Traditionally, Barb is her stepmother, but my mom would never use the word. She and my mom's mom became close after my grandfather died. As the obituary reads:

Barbara, along with Robert (Bob) Abare’s first wife, Marion, will be remembered as a model for blended families. They agreed to “make it easy” on the kids by planning holiday and family gatherings together. Later, after Bob died, Barbara and Marion became good friends, traveled together, and as Marion’s health deteriorated before her death, Barbara offered her care.

In a few hours my mom will open a memorial service in Topeka, Kansas, with the following poem from Rilke's Book of Hours, and we will smile on the life of Grandma Barb.

I live my life in widening circles
that reach out across the world.
I may not complete this last one
but I give myself to it.

I circle around God, around the primordial tower.
I've been circling for thousands of years
and I still don't know: am I a falcon,
a storm, or a great song?