In the warmth and protection of her grandmother's arms was a little girl who dreamt of stars. 

Just her presence beamed with light generated by love between her and I. 

The light that once shone ceased to exist, the day that I wish didn’t exist. 

Only memories fill the void that still remains, containing no cure for the pain.

“Who’s Nana’s girl?” She would ask, accompanying me to every task. 

 As I watched her fade I was still her girl but the love she provided continued to prevail. 

The love that was shared never dispersed but the pain that came with only made it worse. 

She once called me her angel but now she’s mine as I carry the special love between only her and I. 

“Doesn’t everything die, at last and too soon.” (Mary Oliver “Summer day”). Although short lived the memories seep through as I carry her with me like the lace of my shoe. 

Nana's girl continues to stand as she looks up to heaven, her Nana's ring in hand. Her light peaks through continuing the love between the two.