When she was dying and immediately afterwards I placed her hands all over me…maying thinking that the bones of memory could bring her back to me. You were more than just a Grandma, You were my best friend. Grandma, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. But I remember God reached out and took my grandma's hands and led her home. ‘I didn't mean to disturb you, grandma, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK,' I explained to her. Heart warming and soothing to my mind! Grandma smiled and related this story: She is familiar and comforting, her hands though worn and tired, always providing and protecting. MY GRANDMA’S HANDS. Beautiful and real and touching. A Grandma's hands touch Lives both near and far. They wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse. http://www.holybible.com/resources/poems/ps.php?sid=966, The Late Show with Stephen Colbert and the #ColbertSmallBizBump, Trumpler 14 – a collection of stars in our Milky Way Galaxy by NASA’s Hubble Space Telescope, NASA Perseverance 360° Panorama of Mars Surface, My Visit to Udvar-Hazy Center – Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum ✈️, Cleveland’s NASA Glenn Research Center - 75 Year Anniversary. She didn’t move, just sat with her head down staring at her hands. Thank you for your writing. Stephanie Davis 21 November 2020, 22:00. She was a small woman, but … Voiced with volume, they can raise roofs. The lovely tunes she played back then still dance throughout my head. Grandma’s hand's chapter 3 Grandma reached for her ice tea took a sip and continued her story. You weren’t perfect, you made me angry. She seems to have lost faith in herself, and her way of raising children. Like 3 Pin it 1. This story was written by Melinda Clements and is at: http://bit.ly/ww1iel. They held my husband and wiped my tears when he went off to war. Written silently, rarely read or repeated aloud, our poems. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of God.”. Donate Donate. "— Robin DiAngelo, New York Times bestselling author of White Fragility. Your email address will not be published. Poem. Handprint Poem Idea 3: My dirty little fingerprints I've left on every wall, And on the drawers and table tops, I've really marked them all. By Donna C. Elkins. I know she has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God. Grandma, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. Today marks the anniversary of the death of my grandmother, so those emotions are so very close to the surface, but this poem brought visions of our time together, and I could see her hands kneading the dough, sewing quilts, digging potatoes or patting my cheek. Jaki, this poem speaks so eloquently to me of my connection to my grandmother and the power held in her hands, her heart, her memory. My Grandmother's Hands is a call to action for all of us to recognize that racism is not about the head, but about the body, and introduces an alternative view of what we can do to grow beyond our entrenched racialized divide. These hands, though wrinkled shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life. When I had no shoulder to lean on, They sing to us. Log in or Become a Member to comment. I feel her hands now as I write this. Those hands that held on no matter what. These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of life. by Elizabeth Jennings (1926-2001) She kept an antique shop – or it kept her. If you enjoyed this article, subscribe to receive more just like it. Views: 481. Tags: Jaki Shelton Green, North Carolina, poem, poetry, Category: African American, Knowing, Poetry, United States of America, When Women Waken Literary Journal. Home > Hobbies > Poetry > Archive > Jennings. ~ This funeral poem for Grandma celebrates her unconditional, enduring love, along with the profound influence she had on our lives. 2021-01-05; in ; Antoinette Czamara ; My Grandmother's Hands. It not only reminds me of my grandmother, but my now elderly mother as well. of teachers decided to read this together and discuss several chapters at a time. Well Mother's Day is just about upon us, friends. My Grandma's Hands - Mother's Day Gift. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. I have always been obsessed with hands especially my grandmother and my children. ‘I mean really looked at your hands?'. Some are undated; the earliest dated ones are from the 1930s, the latest from the 1960s. An under-water world, where time, like water Was held in the wide arms of a gilded clock, And my grandmother, turning in to the still sargasso Of memory, wound out her griefs and held i know the grandmother one had handsbut they were always in bowlsfolding, pinching, rolling the doughmaking the breadi know the grandmother one had handsbut they were always under watersifting riceblueing clothesstarching livesi know the grandmother one had handsbut they were always in the earthplanting seedsremoving weedsgrowing knivesburying sonsi know the grandmother one had handsbut they were always underthe clothpushing it alonghelping it birth intoskirtdresscurtains to lock outnighti know the grandmother one had handsbut they were always insidethe hairpartingplaitingtwisting it into rainbowsi know the grandmother one had handsbut they were always insidepocketsholding the knotscounting the twisted veinsholding onto herselflest her hands disappearinto skyi know the grandmother one had handsbut they were always inside the cloudspoking holes for therain to fall. Thank you dearly for your generosity of spirit. Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but wanting to check on her at the same time, I asked her if she was OK. She raised her head and looked at me and smiled. Comments. 10:30 AM EDT . This poem was found at: http://www.holybible.com/resources/poems/ps.php?sid=966. My grandma's hands were beautiful--so beautiful to me. Save my name, email, and website in this browser for the next time I comment. When I sat down beside her she didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if she was OK. Looking down at my hands, 'these are my grandmothers hands' these hands of mine hauntingly resembling hers- are not pretty hands, like my mother's but handsome, useful hands smooth, long, polish free, practical fingers made for use, like my grandma's hands that joyfully cut and sewed birthday dresses that made little girls smile and metamorphose into princess'. Thank you Sheryl for hearing her in all of her incantations. Memories Of Grandma. This book taught me more than any other book I read this year surrounding racialized violence and trauma. They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. She loved and cared for all of us with those lovely,yet old and gnarled hands. Because they were my Grandma's Hands. Reply. After George Floyd was killed blocks from the high school where I teach, a group. Sometimes, I can close my eyes and still feel the calming power of my grandmother’s hands.The collective spirit that moves the world most certainly manifests through a grandmother’s hands. Rest In Peace (RIP) or End-of-Life Poems for Grandma. My life has changed forever, But I’ll still love you ’til the end. We truly have many roofs to raise…together in poetic utterances. Thank you for the blessing of receiving this poem. “Daniel came by before he left town had a loud heated word with your grandpa. My Grandmother's Hands is an extraordinary call to action for all of us to recognize that racism effects not only the mind, but also the body, and introduces an alternative view of what we can do to grow beyond our racial divides. Thank you for this gift of a poem. 12 comments . That with … I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. “Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. fingerplays and poems; Mother's Day; Grandmother Wren May 6, 2011 May 5, 2011 0 Grandma's Hands poems . was never officially charged though she considered her son’s Poets.org. By Nivedeeta Pereira. The title refers to my maternal grandmother and to how both trauma and resilience were expressed through her body. It touched me enough to want to share it with you. Reply. In the very last Q&A of the very last day of my Resilience 2.0 course, a participant held up to the Zoom camera her copy of My Grandmother’s Hands, saying it was the best book ever on healing trauma. Her affectionate tenderness for her grandmother and mother rises like cream to the surface of this poem, partly by quoting them, partly by gesture. Charl Landsberg | Sep 6th, 2020 | poetry | No Comments. Also, what does it have to do with Mothers? August 24, 2020. She didn't move, just sat with her head down staring at her hands. Poetry Genre: Narrative. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer. ‘Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking,' she said in a clear voice strong. Author: Antoinette Czamara. She baked and cooked and canned. My Grandma’s Hands – A Poem for Mother’s Day by Melinda Clements. Published: February 2006. My Grandmother’s Hands Charl Landsberg. 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