GRANDMA'S HANDS

I remember Grandma's hands,
And their kind and gentle touch.
Offering love and comfort to me
Whenever I needed it so much.

Her hands were worn and wrinkled,
From living on a farm for years.
She worked hard and didn't complain--
Her beloved husband Charlie was there.

Besides duties around the house,
And raising my mom--at harvest
She cooked lunch and took it to all
The field hands.  Always doing her best.

When Charlie passed, she let
His brother Bill farm the land.
She moved back to where she grew
Up, and all her family was at hand.  

With those sweet hands, she'd
Help me bake cakes in my
Easy Bake oven.  Teaching me
To read recipes.  She made delicious pies.

Everything she cooked was delicious,
Everybody always said so.
She loved to knit, and crochet
And on her old machine--to sew.

She would even make clothes
For my Barbie dolls, small
Yet beautiful clothes.  I remember
A rose colored velvet formal.

When she came to visit, we'd make
Kolaches and Runzas, and we loved
Her home made vegetable soup.  She had
A way of making it, most wouldn't think of.

She made granny square afghans for me and
A couple of friends.  She even made a crocheted
Tote for one of my junior high English
Teachers and got paid.

Then the long goodbye came--
Alzheimer's moved in.  She would sit
In her room and those hands would crochet
Invisible granny squares that were perfect.

She's in Heaven now--I don't believe
They need afghans there.
Her sweet hands are finally at
Rest, but still remembered here.