Friday, June 26, 2009


My grandmother is a grand lady, Her hair can tell her tales She's amazing, she's astounding, Ever lifting, ever caring. My grandmother is a brave fighter, She's been through wars and bruises, Hard or tough, distant or recent, Her Jesus is her muse My grandmother is a lover She never stops for herself Always giving, always sharing I'm learning from her living --- We sat down this afternoon talking about what drives her heart the most. As she tells me stories about what's happening to her, and tie them in with what HAS happened to her, I cannot and will not help but to think that she's amazing. Amazing like the sun, amazing like water. Sometimes, I cannot understand half of the things she says. But to me, it doesn't even matter because I'm sitting there, listening to not only her stories, but listening to her willingness to describe something to a person 2 generations younger than she is. Her zest to keep up with this fast paced world. Time stops when I sit alone with her and I really REALLY wish with all my heart that she will never age. So that as I age, I can ask her how she did this, and how she did that. My grandmother is not perfect, and that is her saving grace. She's been worked hard and ground to the bone, and what the consequence of hard work and crass hands is her. I cannot love her enough.

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