Raindrops and Teardrops

As the April flowers bloom
 and I look out and see the rain,
I got the news. Just seen your face through a phone, the other day
and now you’re gone. You weren’t just my grandma you were something different 
to every person who knew you. To some, you were comfort.
To others, strength.
 A listener,
my voice of reason,
a quiet kind of love
that didn’t need to be loud to be felt. But to me you were my stability.
 My safe place
 when everything else felt uncertain. And now the world keeps moving,
like it doesn’t realize
 someone so important is missing. The same rain still falls,
the same flowers still bloom but everything feels different 
without you in it. I don’t know how to make sense of this yet.
just know
you were deeply loved
 in so many different ways. And somehow,
it makes the time we had more meaningful. I picture you now no longer in pain,
 no longer tired. Finally reunited
with papa,
the one you missed so much,
together again
 like you were always meant to be. And I imagine you
 reaching out your hand,
and the Lord taking it—
guiding you home,
into a place of peace,
into His kingdom. So while all our hearts are breaking here,
I hold onto that—
that you are safe,
you are whole,
and you are finally at peace. I love you forever.