Grandma’s Hands

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She’d hold me in her milk chocolate arms, gracing my face with Eskimo kisses, reminding me I was her favorite.
She would remind me how beautiful my dark skin was regardless of what the outside world said, I was everything to her.
I saw it in her beautiful dark brown eyes, a woman of strength and perseverance.
I was her reflection.
A direct coalition of who she used to be at my age.
She would call me her Baby Doll, no other grandchild had a nick-name such as mine.
Which made me feel special everytime.
She would take me to the thrift stores and the malls outside.
Picking me out clothes that I would never wear and even some crazy and sometimes pretty things to put in my hair.
But its the still mornings that I miss,
When I would sleep over, and wake up to the smell of fresh coffee.
I knew that at her breakfast bar whatever was troubling my mind the night before would be put to rest with my first sip.
On the days my “grandma,” as she would call it, came to visit not even my mother could heal thoose constant back aches and menstrual cramps.
She would. She could. She did.
She would give me a warm cup of mint tea with two pills of Motrin.
Sure anybody could have given me some pills and tea,
But it was something about Grandma’s hands!
Everything she touched had life
Everything she touched was healed
She was a nurse for many years
And an avid gardener
Her yard was nothing short of perfection.
In the heart of Liberty City lived a woman who would definitely talk about you, but give you the shirt off her back.
She gave me my first Bible and taught me how God can love you regardless of how many times you may have hurt Him.
She would help me take all the bonding glue out of my hair and quick to help me take out my sew ins.

But why does God take beautiful people away from us? When you go into a garden, what kind of flowers do you take with you? The beautiful ones.

Losing someone you love, is never easy. And no matter what people tell you, it will never be easy. You will only learn how to cope with it.

When my Grandmother passed away, I was in the ninth grade. It’s been five years and it still feels like just yesterday  she was taken from me. Her goal was to make sure I graduated and she didn’t survive to see me graduate. My mother was the baby of my Grandmother’s six children. And up  until when  Grandmother passed, my mother (in her mid 30’s) would still get in the bed and snuggle with her mother. And my Grandmother would kill anyone who messed with her “Big Baby Poochirena!” My mother lost her mother, and I lost my grandmother.

Believe me you’re going to be so angry and feel like you just have to seek revenge.  But what good does that do? Does it bring back the person you love? No, not at all. But you have something that no one can take from you! And that is the memories you guys made. The love you shared, and how blessed you were for that loved one to have been apart of your life. Whether they got on yiur last nerve or not.  Even the arguments  will be so precious to you!

Love while you can, you never know when someone can be snatched from under your wing.

With Love & Encouragement
Grandmother-less- Granddaughter

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