Candlelit
Candlelit is a tribute written in memory of my grandmother. Through the image of a candle, the poem offers a gentle glimpse into who she was and reflects on a life that was steady, giving, and full of warmth. As the flame bends, flickers, and slowly melts away, it mirrors a life poured out in love - leaving behind fragments that continue to live on in the hearts of our family.
TRIBUTE
Sharifah Francis
4/7/20262 min read
I watched the match spring to life with fire,
rousing the sleeping room,
dancing on the wooden stick -
its source of strength for now.
It was brought over to a quiet candle,
which it quickly leapt onto,
sitting snugly on the wick,
as it softly grew.
It looked around the room -
which sat silent in the glow -
with small chatter in the background,
and distant laughter chiming in.
It looked up to the ceiling,
observing the gnats stuck on the bulb.
Sometimes it flickered,
as if it might go out,
while the wax melted away,
forming a pool beneath its flame.
I stare at it intently,
watching it bend and gently sway -
like trees caught in the wind,
like the winding of a river.
This is a gentle image of you.
A little fire that emerged,
settling in each of our lives.
Giving so much of yourself to us,
growing softly in our hearts;
until eventually -
fragments of you were left with us...
even after your final goodbye.
Your home was decorated
with memories of the past -
of you, of us, of family;
filled with tears, and also laughter.
A place we could return to,
view the mountains towering high,
now we simply have your pictures,
silent winds, and light blue skies.
You had a resilient spirit,
like all of us, you had your ways,
but your love was ever-present,
your laughter strong and true.
To the end, you kept going,
even when your strength began to fail.
Your candle burned until it could no more.
Luminous flame, we dearly cherish you.
Reflection:
Losing a family member or someone close to us is never an easy process. Their presence, which we become so accustomed to, is no longer there, and all that remain are memories - the joys, the frustrations, and the moments trying to understand them.
My grandmother passed away in 2025, and in a way, it was expected, yet still unexpected. Like in the poem, she had a resilient spirit, and you always knew when she was in the room. She made us laugh with stories from her past, and she taught us a few things along the way.
As she became weaker, we knew it was hard on her because she was such an outgoing person. When she passed, you could feel the emptiness, because she would always come to meet us at the airport - or if she couldn't, she would be there to greet us at the house.
We miss her dearly, but we also loved her deeply.