Grandma's Hands

Last week the Hazlett's grandma, Betty Hazlett, died. Ivy wrote this beautiful poem about her:

When I was little, I wondered what happened

to Grandma's withered hands.

They were wrinkled and shaky, and seemed so, so frail

but time helped me understand

that a life full of love takes a toll on one's hands

and wrinkles are merely the signs

of loving support, of change and of work

of lives touched and intertwined.

Those hands soothed a baby time and again,

they created soft blankets and things for a friend.

They were gifted with cooking good things to eat:

Slush, okra, grits, and other tasty treats.

We all loved Thanksgiving at Grandma's place

thought her hands played Shanghai with cunning grace.

She was proud and warm when applauding a child

but cool hands detected a temperature mild.

Those hands finished puzzles 1,000 pieces strong

and helped little fingers put things where they belong.

Now Grandma's hands no longer shake-

her failing body's gone

Now her hands hold those she's missed

for so very long.

Although her wrinkles are smoothed at last,

I know this is for sure:

No one will forget Grandma's hands

and her love that is so pure.

~Ivy Hazlett~