A poem to read at the funeral of my 90 yr old Grandmother - any ideas??

[Tessiebear]

I have been asked to read a poem at my grans funeral - she was a lovely dignified lady who has been part of a large and close family all her life. I have seen her every week (if not more) my whole life. I am looking for a poem that does her justice.(Hard i know) Any ideas from wise Mumsnetters??

What about this

I read it at my grandfather's memorial and it's just lovely. Still makes me think.

Thanks for that Paranoid - i am basically trying to colate as many as possible - then myself and the family will decide which one we think is most appropriate - so any more would be greatly appreciated

How about Death is nothing at all ? Dh found this very comforting when his mum died.

Tessie, is it a religious funeral? Did she have a faith? If so, there is a lovely passage from Solomon or Proverbs (can go away and check) singing the praises of a good woman.

I was also going to suggest Death Is Nothing At All... I found it a huge comfort after my Grandad passed away and often run the words through my mind when I think of him or my Nan.

I very much like Death is nothing at all or there's this (2 versions copied and pasted below:

do not stand at my grave and weep)

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

This alternative 'modern definitive version', with slight variation in lines 9 and 10, was featured in Mary Frye's obituary in the British Times newspaper in September 2004, although no source is given:

(do not stand at my grave and weep)
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning's hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there; I did not die.

We wanted to read something at our Gran's funeral but found it difficult as she wasn't really into poetry. In the end we decided that we would like a poem that would perhaps make everyone think about their own lives and to make the most of them (as she frequently urged us especially in the last year of her life). We read "The Dash" by Linda Ellis. It isn't especially emotional but moved everyone present and so many people thanked us afterwards. It is here .

I have a nice one that somehow appealed to me and I cut it out of a mag. See what you think....

Let me do my work each day:
and if the darkened hours of despair overcome me, may I not forget the strength that comforted me in the desolation of other times. May I still remember the bright hours that found me walking over the silent hills of my childhood, or dreaming on the margin of a quiet river, when a light glowed within me and I promised my early God to have courage amid the tempests of changing years. Spare me from bitterness and from the sharp passions of ungaurded moments. May I not forget that poverty and riches are of the spirit.
Though the world know me not, may my thoughts and actions be such as shall keep me friendly with myself. Lift my eyes from the earth and let me not forget the uses of the stars.
Forbid that I should judge others lest I condemn myself.
Let me not follow the clamour of the world, but walk calmly in my path. Give me a few friends who will love me for what I am;and keep burning before my vagrant steps the kindly light of hope. And though age and infirmity overtake me, and I come not within sight of the castle of my dreams, teach me still to be thankful for life, and for time's olden memories that arre good and sweet; and may the evenig's twilight find me gentle still.

HTHxxx

Might not be suitable, but I found this on the web.

For Gran

By Liz Morris

"Your hand is cold," you said
At least yours were warm
As you lay in that bed.
I stroked your hair, your wrinkled brow,
Scarred from a fall long
forgotten by now.

Trying to soothe away your pain,
Telling my news and repeating again

Your old eyes were tired, almost unseeing;
Gazing at me, and beyond me
Recalling, then memory fleeing.

"I can feed me," you said,
As I offered to help,
Independent in small ways ''til the end
Small sips seeming like whole platefuls
I guessed,
Such strenuous effort, a real strength test

I propped you up with a soft pillow then,
Although we still leaned almost together,
Companionable, you seemed patient, yet puzzled
By your body's failings.

I loved you then ~ for being so proud
I told you that aloud

You dozed off into your own thoughts, then,
Checking that you were safe
I said my good-byes
And left just one more time.

My mum asked for this at her funeral -

Life Goes On
If I should go before the rest of you
Break not a flower
Nor inscribe a stone
Nor when I am gone
Speak in a Sunday voice
But be the usual selves
That I have known

Weep if you must
Parting is hell
But life goes on
So .... sing as well
Joyce Grenfell
1910-1979

We are a large and close family and she wanted us to remember that we would be happy again.

I love this poem by Christina Rosetti, it's called Requiem

When I am dead my dearest,
sing no sad songs for me;
plant thou no roses at my head,
nor shady cypress tree;
be the green grass above me
with showers and dewdrops wet,
and if thou wilt, remember
and if thou wilt, forget.

I shall not see the shadows,
I shall not feel the rain;
I shall not hear the nightingale
sing on, as if in pain;
and dreaming through the twilight
that does not rise nor set,
haply I may remember,
and haply may forget.

I just think it's brilliant, it's basically saying that it's the people who are left who are important; for some they need to remember, others need to move on....

I know some find the idea that 'death is nothing at all' is a comfort but it's the opposite for me. It IS something and it's something huge.....

sorry for your loss, she sounds as if she was a lovely lady..

Some lovely ideas - i really like "death is nothing at all" - thanks Miaou X
Marina - would love that bible passage if you have it to handX

Hi Tessie, here is the King James Version - it is from Proverbs 31. Now you have the reference and the gist of the reading you can maybe find a modern English version if you prefer.
I've always thought this the perfect reading to pay tribute to a long and loving life well lived...

10 Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies.
11 The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil.
12 She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life.
13 She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands.
14 She is like the merchants' ships; she bringeth her food from afar.
15 She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens.
16 She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard.
17 She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms.
18 She perceiveth that her merchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night.
19 She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff.
20 She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy.
21 She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet.
22 She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple.
23 Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land.
24 She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant.
25 Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come.
26 She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness.
27 She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness.
28 Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her.

Thinking of you today, Tessiebear.xxx