Today, we buried my beloved grandmother. At her funeral, I knew I wanted to speak. Normally, I would be confident to just get up and talk about her but, in this instance, I didn’t trust myself to properly communicate all of the things that I wanted to say. So, I started to write down what I needed to say. And it just wasn’t coming together! None of it felt right. It didn’t feel like they were my words on a page. And they didn’t aptly describe Nonna. My solution at 2am (7 hours before I needed this to be done) was to make it all rhyme.

You see, Nonna loved rhyming. She loved when I would tell her my stories and she loved them even more when they rhymed. So, here I am, with a little ditty (not about Jack & Diane) to commemorate my little lady. It’s silly. It’s juvenile. But, man alive, it’s also my heart. And it was her’s, as well. Here it is! A little ditty for the little lady who made me who I am.

There once was a woman named Bess,
From whom my name was derived.
She taught me to laugh, she taught me to dress,
& she taught me the meaning of life.

It was May of 1926,
When first this world met her.
If they knew then, I cannot say,
But now we know for sure,
That this life was hers for the taking
And not a single day did she waste,
For she built a family & she built a home,
Alongside whom every trouble she could face.

She’d tell us stories of the moving,
Oh! The moving she would do!
From Illinois to California–
She spoke as though she had something to prove.

Prove to whom? It never mattered,
Because, as a woman not easily flattered,
At the end of the day,
All she needed to be able to say
Was, “I wanted to do it, so I tried!”
And fail or succeed, she took it in stride.

Thus, her philosophy was laid,
Right out front, for all to see
In black & white, as clear as day,
“Whatever you want is what you can be.
Always try your best & keep your smile,
Don’t let the hard times get you down.
Because, kid, you’ll do amazing things
& you shouldn’t greet them with a frown.”

She taught me that a house is not a home,
Until down you had knocked a few walls.
She taught me the same was true of my heart,
For there is where you need the most open floor-plan, of all.

What kind of life is worth living if,
For those in need, you can’t make your heart a home?
What’s the point of things & food & money,
If it serves only you and you alone?

She told me not to wait on my ship,
But instead that I should swim out to it,
That I shouldn’t wait for the good things to happen,
No! I should chase them, pursue them, & go do it!

Her final days were unexpected
But they were filled with laughter, nonetheless.
She reminded the nurses several times,
“I hate the name Bessie! It’s Bess!”
One night, while sitting beside her,
She said, “Kate, you’ve always been around.”
& in that moment, the greatest of lessons,
My heart had surely found.

You see, life isn’t about the big gifts
Or seeing New England in the fall.
It’s about being there for the ones you love
& answering them when they call.

Your life, my friends, will be a grand adventure
If you’re generous, kind, and true.
Then, on the day you’re laid to rest,
This world will celebrate you.

My Nonna lived & gave & loved;
She poured into my life so freely.
Now she sees the face of God,
& with the angels she’s making a… dealie.

“My gold plates for your
Silver platter and spoons.
This is a deal for you, Peter!
Take it now! The deal is expiring soon.”

She’d sell ‘this’ to buy ‘that,’
& encouraged us to do the same.
She told us to write our own life’s rules,
But she also taught us to play the game.

So, my life will continue
& I’ll miss her everyday,
Until I see her again and,
“Here’s looking at you, kid,” is what she’ll say.

There once was a woman named Bess,
From whom my name was derived.
She taught me to laugh & she taught me to dress,
& she taught me the meaning of life.