Love Poem: Margaret Sanford...My Grandmother
Paula Swanson Avatar
Written by: Paula Swanson

Margaret Sanford...My Grandmother

I wrote and read this poem at my grandmothers funeral.


While growing up, Toni; Steven and I
saw our Grandparents sacrifice,
so much of their own lives, without a fuss.
Along with our Mother, they did it just for us.
Though Grandpa he was called, he was our father
and in Mom and Grandma, we had two amazing Mothers.
We loved them with the clarity of a childs heart,
in each one of us, they became, so much a part.
Sadly, we have gathered together here today,
to say our final goodbye, to a wonderful lady.
Grandma was tough, she was stubborn and oh so loving.
She had about her, that special something.
That had every child in every neighborhood,
calling her Grandma, whenever they could.
I remember her ready laughter, at our antics,
and her guidance, by the seat of our panties.
The countless batches of cookies baked.
For each one of us, every year, our own special birthday cake.
The delicate Barbie and Troll doll clothes she made,
the big band music, on the stereo, she played.
The fragrant roses and brilliant dahlias, tended with care.
The home canned pears, who with the neighbors, she shared.
Then we grew up and though with Mom, we moved away,
Grandma and Grandpa, stayed in our thoughts every day.
Our sister Kristi was born and added to Grams happiness and pride,
then as if by magic, the years just flew by.
The four of us were having children of our own,
when Gram would hold them, her face fairly glowed.
Gram saw her great grand children grow into yong ladies and men,
Then came along some great, great, grandchildren.
I was always amazed, but never surprised,
how Gram, through the children, came alive.
Gram's whole essence was that of pure love.
So I firmly believe she has placed herself, in charge of the baby angels above.
She holds them in arms, that once embraced all of us.
She, herself, is held now in the arms of Jesus.
She is looking down upon us now, with a love untold.
Within her angels wings, she does now, all of us enfold.



In Loving memory of Margaret Sanford.
1918-2010