for GZ

My grandma Z passed away in 1997. The last time I saw her before she died was my birthday, which happened to be on Holy Thursday, just like the day I was born. She died about a week later. As we cleaned out her apartment and went through everything, I got to learn a bit more about her as the woman she was not just as my grandma. One of the most meaningful things that I have from her is a book of poetry that she received on her birthday in 1945. I remember picking it up and flipping through the pages. It is a huge volume. It's called A Treasury of Great Poems: English and American compiled by Louis Untermeyer. Later when I had more time, I carefully turned each page and noticed that she had written notes about different poems and what she thought of them. There was one in particular that she listed as her 'very favorite'. We included it in the program at her funeral.

Although I think of her often, it is this time every year though, when I see the daffodils in bloom I always am reminded of her and how much she loved us. I hear her laughing and think of all the silly things she used to do. There are daffodils in the garden just by the side door; so every morning I see them and then every evening when I come home, almost like she is there greeting me.

So I'm going to share with you the poem. I hope that you enjoy it and take time to enjoy some daffodils yourself! :)


The Daffodils by William Wordsworth

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils,
Beside the lake, beneath the trees
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of the bay;
Ten thousand saw I at a glance
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee;
A poet could not but be gay
In such jocund company!
I gazed-and gazed-but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought;

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.