as bright as her pearls.
more valuable still.
The breeze blows gently
through her thinning, silver hair
as we walk slowly; she and I.
For I would not dare
ask her to rush.
Or pick up her pace.
Her stories – told as slowly as her step,
but not losing meaning.
They will remain with me
long after she leaves me
to walk alone on mornings like this.
The only thing lost
as we shuffle along the sidewalk of life,
is time, but I don’t mind
Because time spent with grandma
is not time lost, but rather, memories made.
Words engraved into a heart that beats
Because she walked this earth before me
And gave me the gift
of belonging to something bigger than myself.