We are a family with no traditions
Our dead (few that they are) leave us stumbling,
jarring into each other
fumbling
Traditions lost to church upheavals and broken relationships
Us young
Stuck in a thrift store of ideals and religions
Trying on others discarded beliefs.

But this mattered
Gathering flowers and time and memories
Telling my children what I do know
That Grandpa fell in love with her the moment he saw her
(you can see it in every photo of them)
That sparkles and stickers and fifteen page letters will always be her domain
That generosity flows deep in our blood, as does laughter and faith
And that in our world where things seem constantly to be changing
Some things will forever remain the same.