My Handsome Prince, His sisters, and his Granma on her 90th birthday, April 2007
Grandma's hands Clapped in church on Sunday morning
Grandma's hands Played a tambourine so well
Grandma's hands Used to issue out a warning
She'd say, "Billy don't you run so fast Might fall on a piece of glass "Might be snakes there in that grass"
Grandma's hands Soothed a local unwed mother
Grandma's hands Used to ache sometimes and swell
Grandma's hands Used to lift her face and tell her, "Baby, Grandma understands That you really love that man Put yourself in Jesus hands"
Grandma's hands Used to hand me piece of candy
Grandma's hands Picked me up each time I fell
Grandma's hands Boy, they really came in handy
She'd say, "Matty don' you whip that boy What you want to spank him for? He didn' drop no apple core"
But I don't have Grandma anymore
If I get to Heaven I'll look for Grandma's hands
This song played on my ipod when we were leaving the funeral.
Yesterday we attended the funeral for Eulala M. Grapes, Wife, Mother, Grandmother, Great Grandmother, Great Great Grandmother. This is My Handsome Prince's Grandmother. Ellen, her daughter wrote a song about her, a few years back, it makes me cry every time she sings it. Elizabeth, her Granddaughter, wrote a poem for this funeral. I wish I had the words to both but since I don't I felt this song brought out the power of a Grandma and kismet that is was playing as we drove home from West Virginia.
Now we are both left with only one Grandparent alive. I called my Grandma today. She has taken up to writing poetry. She recited 2 poems to me, one about my cousin, her Granddaughter and one about life's tough questions. What is amazing is that my Grandma doesn't see well enough to write. Just well enough to recognize people and observe what happens around her. After 90 some odd years, she is experiencing the world in a totally new way and thinking about it and then creating from it. She recites her poems in her head and when they are "just right" she recites them over the phone to a friend. To me that is amazing and an inspiration.
My Handsome Prince's Granfather, Shorty, Eulala's husband of 72 years has been left behind. He still runs an antique auto parts business, has to be scolded to not climb on a pile of logs with a chainsaw, and plays scrabble every night.
Aren't we lucky to have had these influences in our young lives and now providing inspiration to keep learning, keep seeking, keep moving?
One of the things read yesterday was a poem written by MHP's sister. Among many things she called Eulala:
a whistler of tunes
a wearer of teal
an admirer of curly hair
I can feel her hands on my hair, telling me how beautiful it was, as I sat on the floor in front of her. I can hear her through My Handsome Prince's whistling and now Audrey's whistling, something I have never been able to do. I see my sister in law, a lover of teal, and see her. And of course we giggle about crackadoodles (passing gas, farts, fluffs). She was carried off in a white casket, for she loved things to be pristine, by her Grandsons and Great Grandsons. At one point the youngest Great Grandson, about 3 or 4, said somewhat loudly "I'm hot". It was perfect. The next generation and again the circle being unbroken. Rejoice in the long life lived and the life yet to be lived.