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My Visions of Life
In Her Gentle Hands

While surfing the net, I was stopped in my tracks by a poem written by E. Writer.  It reminded me so much of my Grandmother, whom we called Nanny, who passed away in June of 2002.  The last time I spoke with her, I had the opportunity to ask her some important questions.  I remember her eyes that day, they were not as shiny as usual, and I could see that her spirit was leaving this earth.  As I held her soft gentle hand in mine, I asked:  "Nanny, if you had not dedicated your life entirely to your family, what dream would have you wanted to fulfill?" She answered: "I loved raising my family, do not get me wrong, however, if I could have fulfilled one dream, I would have loved to set up and play, and be in it!"  For the last time her eyes sparkled and I saw the child in her.  That was her last words to me.  The poem below really exudes my grandmothers spirit.

 

Thank you Elainz Angelz  for giving me permission to publish this on my web page. 

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In Her Gentle Hands

 

She led life with gentle hands.

Soft and warm, soothing to the touch.

The silver in her hair sparkled with every days laughter.

In the reflection of her eyes you were always its center.

When she spoke the smile on her lips light up our hearts and our lives.

 

 

Those who would remember her heart,

Carry her gracious spirit with them every day.

As this was the gift she gave.

We would be the caretakers of her thoughts.

In our hearts we would set the pages of her story onto our waking day.

 

As we touch the little ones, we care for her.

When we laugh at the joyous comedy of life we will remember.

My eyes will seem different, but with heart we will see ourselves.

When I speak I will seek her wisdom.

 

The sky is much brighter today.

The air is more sweetly scented.

In the green of the leaves we are reminded that life is full of everything.

She is there in the air,

And her wings are bright and gathered about us with love.

 

The sparkle of her hair has been sent to brighten the stars.

Her laughter lingers there in the song of the breeze in the trees.

 

In my eyes I see the children playing,

And remember all the days.

In the night I will dream and we will play again.

When morning comes again she will fill my life,

My heart, and lighten my soul.

I would give her wings that her spirit is at peace.

Into her loving wings I would commend her to the heavens.

God rest and keep.

 

By E. Writer

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I adopted this guardian angel in memory of my Nanny.

 You can click on certificate to view its source.

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images:  harrythecat.com