Grandmother's Hands

I will not forget, my grandmother's gentle, loving, gnarled touch; those hands that I loved so very much, not a day spent with her I will regret. We made chocolate cake, our best dessert to make; and we liked sad movies though we got upset, those old, old hands would reach out for me; her grasp a plea . . . I have a memory dear, of grandma holding me to her beating heart; when death came and my sister had to depart, stroking my hair until my tears would disappear. And when grandpa died, we hugged and cried; I watched her hands grow more fragile each year, like a twisted road map of her tangled life; her death hit like a knife . . . ______________________ April 28, 2018 Poetry/Rhyme/Grandmother's Hands Copyright Protected, ID 18- 1017-836-01 All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym Written for Jamie's Interesting Contest sponsor, Jamie Pan, (Theme #5, Elements #2) First Place