FOR GRANDMA

a poem by Bryan Kono one of Patty Crowley's grandsons, which he read at her funeral liturgy.

In the wake of world destruction
Impossible loss
A generation of orphans, born into hate by example
Brought under the wing of an unsuspecting swan
A mom
Whose flight, unburdened by the weight of we dependents
Carries spirits to distant, different lands
To reaffirm the lost Truth that we are all the same

And you brought them back to the table of your Lord
The weary you gave rest
The downtrodden soul you lifted up
The hungry, you fed with the feast of family
The imprisoned, you gave Hope of a world worth caring for
And to the Lord of Love you gave witness
To a worship of inclusion

All this time, a perfect pair to shoulder the load
Two free thinkers, burdened with the means to make a difference
And you took up your cross and made of it your vessel
To sail through this life with grace
And here you will rest
Not far from where you awoke to the injustice of complacence
And set out to level the field
We generations, blessed to trace your tracks through the city snow

92 years, all too brief to contain this journey
A pilgrimage of untold movement, to bring
This daughter home
This mother to a child, but a dream, now to hold
This wife to a husband, 31 years and never alone
This heart not broken but reborn by a reunion of so longing
And this not your last but your finest dance
Dance wherever you may be
Where the sun meets the sky, you and he
Now just dance

“Lord of the Dance” was a favorite song of Patty’s, and was sung at the funeral. In fact, at the
graveside, Fr. Bob Oldershaw insisted that everyone dance — and they did!