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Flop or Flourish Motivotions Day- 11 Writing away

Posted by Amy DeWitt on 6:17 PM in , , ,
Writing is something I've done since I was very young. I still have a few copies of novels I began when I was about 11 years old.
At that age, my stories were always about a girl who moves to a new house. I think that was because we had never moved. I lived for 19 years in the same house. Since I've been married and in ministry that same amount of time, (13 years) we've now moved at least a dozen times. I'm not entirely sure. I've lost count. But I digress.
I've written story after story, piece after piece. But my favorite piece was one I'd written about my Grandma a few weeks after she passed away. I never wrote more than this first draft. I don't have the heart to polish it up.

Grandma's hands looked bare without all of the rings she usually wore. Her hands were too swollen from the medication to be able to wear them.

I held her right hand in mine. Her skin completely pale against the stark white of the hospital bed sheets. I gently rubbed the wrinkled hand with my thumb.

My memory took me back to a place in time when those hands were much different.

I remembered not too long ago on a trip to visit with Grandma. She hugged me and placed that same right hand on one of my cheeks as she kissed the other. "I love you, Sweetheart." She had smiled and patted my cheek ever so gently. Then she squeezed my hand before I walked out the door.

As I sat at her bedside, I was joined by my mom and younger sister. Tears rolled down all of our cheeks as we faced an unwelcome reality; Grandma wouldn't be with us much longer.

The three of us held onto a part of Grandma's hand. They were hands that had brought so much comfort through the years. Her hands had made necklaces for Christmas gifts. They had smacked teasingly at ours when jokes were made. Most importantly, her hands had folded in prayer time after time for all of her children and grandchildren.

I think it was my sister that spoke up as we sat holding Grandma's hand.

"Did you ever realize how much all of our hands look alike?" I studied the four hands clasped together. My younger sister's hands were soft, dainty and smooth. Mine looked like a slightly older version of hers. Mom's hands were beginning to look more and more like Grandma's.

My aunt, who was across the room came to stand by us, her cell phone in hand. "Put your hands next to each other." She motioned with one hand. "I'll take a picture with my cell phone."

We arranged one of each of our hands around Grandma's. Grandma slept peacefully as that phone captured our memory. A memory that will live on forever in our hearts.

That was the last picture taken with the four of us.

Grandma passed away two days later. I will forever cherish that picture. The picture that will always remind me of the loving times spent holding Grandma's hand.

Don't forget to hang on to the time you have with your loved ones. Sure, flourishing is sometimes accomplished in your "me" time. But don't forget to include those closest to you. You never know how long you will get with your loved ones. Cherish the small moments.


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