In the Winnebago we took a trip
to sit with Grandma, a coin to flip
She snored and babbled to no end,
her quirks and foibles to contend.
Down to Mexico we all did go.
To watch the ocean ebb and flow.
Drink tequila, have some fun,
watching waves and the setting sun.
Life seemed idyllic and full of joy,
God sometimes teases, it's just a ploy.
Grandma waned and died that night,
a Mexican death is quite a plight.
The powers that be were really no help,
so we had a service on sand and kelp.
We prayed, tossed flowers into the sea,
get us to America our only plea.
Grandma laid out on the over-head bed,
made her look sleeping, not really dead.
We stopped for dinner and a quick break,
those nasty thieves our r.v. they did take.
Imagine the surprise if they opened the door
and Grandma had fallen down to the floor.
We never did get our Winnebago back,
a missing dead Grandma, a tough case to crack.
We'll miss our dear Grandma, oh so much,
with love and laughter, our lives she did touch.
Our Winnebago now, is another story,
the insurance man thought it too gory.
We bought a new toy, a ship to sail,
named after Grandma, our pride – The Gail.
Never again will we go past the border,
to live in America is now the new order.
