Thursday Throwback: Grandma's Hands

Of all of the Thursday Throwback posts I've contributed to or done, none of them compares to this one.

Last week, my grandmother gracefully bowed out of this life at the age of 94. Initially, I was deeply saddened by the news until it dawned on me; she had lived a full life and earned her spot in Heaven. As I reflected back on my time spent with her, I was instantly reminded of the first song posted below, so I went to the collection, pulled the CD and put the song on repeat.

Just four years ago, my mother and aunt threw my grandmother a 90th birthday party. All of her grandchildren, two great grandchildren and countless nephews and nieces descended on the Twin Cities to help her celebrate. As an additional surprise, the grandchildren were asked to write a few things about her for a journal that was being put together in her honor.

If you can see where this is headed, then you'd know that the main theme of my recollection centered around my grandmother's hands. They were soft and pillowy, yet strong. At the same time that they caressed me and healed my wounds as a child, they were also quick to correct me- both in gesture and in action.

I'm not exactly sure what drew me to her hands, but I always loved holding them as we talked about everything from sports to life to her days as a youth in West Virgina. In honor of my grandmother and her hands, it's only right to hit you with Bill Wither's classic

This past Tuesday we buried my grandmother next to my grandfather, who had passed away almost eight years ago after a rough battle with prostate cancer. I was so caught up in the loss of my grandmother that I failed to realize what day it was.

On the day that my grandfather was born, the best gift he could receive was to be reunited with my grandmother. As soon as I realized it, this song popped into my mind:

R.I.P. Grandma! You will be missed!.

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