the last time I heard your kind voice
    you asked if I wanted a drink of water.
it was accompanied,
    as always,
by that irrepressible  light in your eyes,
followed by your quick smile

that moment came
long after I’d seen your lonely sweater
      -empty except for the tissue in the pocket-
      hanging on a chair in your basement
the one you’ll never wear again

the fancy stitching at the wrists and neck of your simple dress
      it must have been made for a wedding,
      but it was also perfect for your funeral
was already just a memory

grief had swept through me
and left me…
and I was smiling
we were laughing
    during a late night conversation,
    trying to fall asleep
and then we were quiet and your voice was suddenly in my head
        along with the indescribable
        and comforting smell of your house

my most ambitious dream
is to be loved as much as you were

My Grandma Hunsberger has been gone for 6 months now. I was meaning to write something else today, but this is what came out instead. 1 Thessalonians 4:11 is one of my favorite verses and it makes me think of my Grandma: “Make it your ambition to to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands.”

There’s an old story that my Grandpa actually got up in church one time and confessed that he loved his wife too much. I love that.

One of Roger’s most vivid memories of my grandparents took place just after our wedding ceremony. We were on the side porch of the church with family members, waiting for people to leave the sanctuary so we could take pictures. Grandpa came over and hugged us and said to Roger with a sparkle in his eyes, “I hope you enjoy marriage as much as I have.” (That’s a lot to live up to.)


About ruthie.voth

Wife of one, mother of four, friend of many. Lover of details, color, good conversations, finding balance, and being honest. Passionate lover of a well-crafted sentence - even more so if it's witty. Weird blend of cynical optimist. I'm the worst kind of woman. I'm high maintenance, but I think I'm low maintenance. Somehow, people still love me. Must be grace.
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One Response to -catherine-

  1. joycemoyerhostetter says:

    When your grandpa came to Evangeline’s funeral, he shared so eloquently and earnestly with me about his lonelieness for Catherine.


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