Elegance and hope intertwine blue
glossy beads of my great grandmother’s rosary.
Rose was her name,

a tough life she endured.
She made it to 97 years old.
Surviving breast cancer,
she pushed through life
carrying her hardships with her head up,
God in her heart, and a rosary in her hands.
I sat beside her hospital bed, watching her bravery
slip into weakness.
I knew that I would have to be strong for her.
I handed her my favorite teddy bear, hoping
she could find comfort in it when I wasn’t there.
In return, she handed me her rosary,
as if to say
I needed the strength more than she did.