This is the poem I read at the service. It reminds me of Grandma a lot. I used to go to her house before school but in winter it was dark and I didn’t like the dark street corner. So Grandma would stand at the dinning room window waiting and watching me. She’d wave and after she saw me wave back she’d go put the kettle on and unlock the back door. The Watcher by Margaret Widdeman She always leaned to watch for us Anxious if we were late, In winter by the window, In summer by the gate. And though we mocked her tenderly Who had such foolish care, The long way home would seem more safe, Because she waited there. Her thoughts were all so full of us, She never could forget, And so I think that where she is She must be watching yet. Waiting ‘til we come home to her Anxious if we are late Watching from Heaven’s window Leaning from Heaven’s gate. For everything we shared, The dreams, the laughter, And the tears, I love you with a Special Love That deepens every year. Thank You Grandma Xx