Grandma's Hands...

Many years ago, my nephew, Skip, took the picture on the left of my mom, Cleo, and I loved the way he captured the love in her hands and the sparkle in her eyes. At the time, I was still dying my hair brown trying to fool the public, thinking that this period of life was a long way off.

It wasn’t.

Those hands. For as long as I can remember, mom’s hands were always a bit contorted from the rheumatoid arthritis that had afflicted her at a young age. Sometimes when she pointed we had to double check to whom she was pointing. Those hands, held us, warmed us, disciplined us, fed us and loved us unconditionally.

When she became a grandma, she was completely delighted and had the full intent of completely spoiling them. “I didn’t have the time to do that with each of you when I was just a mother.”

Just a mother! Five children back to back. I think a trophy was due to her.
She lived long enough to enjoy four great grandchildren and did her best to spoil them as well.

I was very involved in the lives of some of my grandchildren and just returned from spending a precious week in Los Angeles with them, all living their individual blooms. I fully understood my mom when I met my first great grandchild.

I just have to blink to travel through the decades of my life to this momentous event. You can’t prepare anyone for how fast that journey is when at the same time, life can occasionally move ever so slowly.

September 11 was officially Grandparent’s Day. Can’t believe I’m asking this, but when is Great Grandparent’s Day?

Several years ago, I was commissioned to write a song for a playwright friend of mine, Larry Cutrone, who passed away too soon. He wanted a simple country tune called “Grandma’s Hands” to capture the time he spent with her. I had to step out of my comfort zone but sometimes songs just flow, like they are coming through me from another source. I was so happy that he loved it.

Hope you enjoy it too.