Here's what I read at my Grandfather's memorial service on Saturday, which was lovely all around:

(by e.e. cummings)

in time of daffodils(who know
the goal of living is to grow)
forgetting why,remember how

in time of lilacs who proclaim
the aim of waking is to dream,
remember so(forgetting seem)

in time of roses(who amaze
our now and here with paradise)
forgetting if,remember yes

in time of all sweet things beyond
whatever mind may comprehend,
remember seek(forgetting find)

and in a mystery to be
(when time from time shall set us free)
forgetting me,remember me


After the service I got to look through a bunch of old photos of my ancestors that I have literally never seen before, since they had been stuck away in a shoebox and forgotten by my grandmother. There were photos of my grandparents as children and as courting young adults. I snagged just a few photos to scan at home; two are of my Grandfather during WWII, looking extremely handsome and dreamy. I'll have to post one of them here. My sister and I were in heaven, seeing these for the first time - the photos in our parents' household dated back to 1955 or so but no further. We kept saying, "you don't understand - we buy photos of strangers, just like these, at flea markets for like a buck apiece!" I'm fascinated with very old snapshots; the unposed ones especially are like accidental windows through time. Look how they smile and laugh and look sad and lonely, just like we do now. I have photos of complete strangers framed and hung on my walls, and I could have had actual relatives instead.

And now I can.