Judy (Original Poem)

Before my great grandmother, Judy, died, she'd sit by the window and watch the birds outside in the trees. Every time she did this, she would point out one male Cardinal, who was always alone. Smiling, she'd say "That's my Bud. And when I die, you look for the Cardinal and he won't be alone anymore. There will be two of them, me and Bud." The day of her funeral we gathered at the house and outside the window were two Cardinals. I believe they are Judy and Bud...reunited again.

Looking at your photos
Brings back good times,
But now that you’re gone,
All they are, are rhymes.
The snow was falling hard
And the skies were gray
The day we buried you,
I bowed my head to pray.
My heart still hurts,
Picturing you there;
Peacefully dying—
Rocking in your chair.
The tears always fall,
When the cardinals appear,
It’s like you always said,

It’s how I’ll know you’re here