Loved Ancestor

So where are you now, loved ancestor?
Do you wander about the purple-topped mountains of your birth,
Your flying spirit taking the form of your youthful self?
Or as the church might claim, on the right side
Of God almighty, eternal bliss?
Are my words for naught?
Wasted breaths blowing against the brown earth, grey ash.

My memories of you are few,
Spread thinly through the years,
Spread thinly across the distance of our abodes,
Separated by the greater fraction of my heritage.
Yet these obstacles served to improve your value,
None of your equivalents lived to fulfill your many roles,
You are unique, your precious memories shall stand tall.

I did not cry during your final departure.
Nor did I comfort those who did,
Nor did I sing my farewells.
No, I did not mourn when you left my world,
For, in truth, you were never a major part of it.
I reserved my mind for other purposes.
It was gratitude which stiffened my lip.

Loved ancestor, your blood is a minor fraction of mine.
A small contribution, of that there is no doubt,
But does the rainbow coloured butterfly complain,
That it is smaller than the carrion bird?
At times your precious memories may be eclipsed,
By the great events that shall surely follow, but,
When I wear your tartan, I will be proudest of all.