Headline Poem 1/23/14 -- a shorthand goodbye

(Photo credit Yahoo News) 

My grandmother used to write in shorthand while talking on the phone. I had never seen that style of writing until a few days before she died. She wrote something on a piece of paper while in a hospital bed with a window view. We have yet to figure out what it says, but after reading today's headline about how the internet continues to help crack the code of a grandmother's notes before dying, perhaps I will try to solve our puzzle as well.  

a shorthand goodbye

there is something regal about the city in spring

she made it through the winter

she can do anything

eyes crystal, warm and clear, like looking at a painting, 

or the reflection in the mirror... 

my body is lying in a bed, but I am far from there

up at my house with the view, the most incredible view 

on the phone with a girlfriend

writing in shorthand

twirling my hair

making plans for a game of bridge

the windows are open

it is a balmy spring afternoon

the wind blows through

five weeks past my forty-fourth birthday 

I am young again

I have a room filled with jewels and clothes and a bathtub made for a queen

he treats me like a queen, though sometimes he has a wondering eye --

most men do

I am far from the room in which they all gather, 

staring at me, saying their prayers

I appreciate them, I hear them, I love them, and I will miss them

I am forty-four though, legs crossed, necklace dangling, laughing on the phone

doodling and taking notes

dating the conversation like I date everything else, documenting that I was here, and when...