Aged with wisdom, keeping her belongings close and her dear loved ones closer.
She knows her time in this world is fading to the end of her novel.

Grandma’s hands, the softest things you’ve ever felt.
Every wrinkle another story yet to be told.

So many words, such little time.
Every moment with grandma must be cherished.

Her hands weak, but powerful.
Powerful as the music from the wind, gone through too many obstacles

not to play it’s last note.
81 years past and grandma’s still loving and caring hands tell more stories.

Each story meant to be kept.
Only lucky ones get to hear grandma’s stories.
Only lucky ones get to hold her hands.

Small, almost fragile, yet stronger than mine or yours.
Grandma’s hands have felt more knowledge, more emotion, love, and hate.

So listen to grandma’s stories……
Only lucky ones get to hear grandma’s stories.
Only lucky ones get to hold her hands.