Welcome friends and family. I'm so glad you stopped by, do stay a while and enjoy.This page is about how Grandparents feel.






        "You may click the book to go to their page."

        THIS PAGE IS DEDICATED TO
        ALL GRANDPARENTS

        We say I love you to them every day of
        our lives
        maybe some day things will be better,
        that is what we are hoping for.
        If you have some thing to add
        to the page please feel free to do so.


        BLUE RAIN BOOTS
        My granddaughter held out her hand, "Look, Grandma, what is this?"
        She waved an object back and forth, As if for emphasis.
        Her sheepish grin revealed to me, She had been somewhere forbidden,
        Like into boxes on a shelf, That I thought were well hidden.
        Swinging there upon a cord, A small canvas bag of blue,
        I caught the bag with my two hands, And instantly I knew.
        "Honey, where'd you find this?" Shrugged shoulders, her reply,
        "I thought that this was long since gone," A tear sneaked from my eye.
        "Don't cry, Grandma, I'll put it back, I'm sorry I was bad."
        "No, sweetheart, it's all right, Just for a moment, I felt sad."
        Then I took her up into my lap, And we opened up the bag,
        Inside, two rubber shoe-like soles, Surrounded by blue strips of rags.
        "Ugh, Grandma, who wants that?" She jumped down and left the room,
        I held blue remnants in my hands, That time and age had near consumed.
        My grandchild, much too young to share, The history of those scraps,
        Something now for me alone, Or, my God and me, perhaps.
        Now, let's see - what would it be, Thirty - forty - fifty years?
        Could it really be that long? My eyes swelled up again with tears.
        I think I was not twenty yet, I know I was in college,
        I was self-supporting, too, And I had this thirst for knowledge.
        Money was not plentiful, I barely covered food and rent,
        I bought no clothes; I had no treats, I knew I dared not waste a cent.
        My mother, too, was working hard, And she had bills to meet,
        She wanted so to help me out, But, poor soul, she also had to eat.
        We commiserated with each other, Knowing one day things would change,
        Ever struggling for the future, We shared our joys and our pains.
        This day - a vicious rainstorm, Water rose high over curbs,
        The worst storm of the season, Was one report I later heard.
        Mom and I had planned this outing, Not too concerned about the storm,
        We met at a local tearoom, Which was cozy, dry and warm.
        Right off, Mom saw how wet I was, I was soaked through to the skin,
        "Honey, where's your rain boots?" "What a state," she said, "You're in."
        "Well, Mom, I don't have any, But I think by ... next ... payday..."
        The distressed look up on her face, Blew all my words away.
        She bit her lip and said, "Oh, honey," Then she took me to a store,
        Which sold rain gear at a discount, Umbrellas, boots, and more.
        We picked out a cheap umbrella, Such guilt I felt that night,
        I knew Mom should not spend the money, Though she kept saying, "It's all right."
        Then we chose blue canvas rain boots, With thick, black rubber soles,
        Thick enough to keep me dry, Even if I stepped in holes.
        I remember thinking at the time, I'm not a child any more,
        Yet there she was, still caring, Just as she had done before.
        She said, "It's just a little thing," Major sacrifice, thought I,
        I saw an act of love that night, That I'd remember 'til I die.
        My appreciation then was great, But now, I think, it's greater,
        Funny how years fleeting by, Increase one's values later.
        I sat back then and thought about, My mom and when she died,
        I thought now I am old enough, To take that very ride.
        "Yes, Mom, soon I'll be joining you, I've changed since you were here,
        But when I arrive, you'll know me, I'll be wearing blue rain gear.
        "I know we have been promised, Robes of gold and pure white,
        But I plan to ask God if He minds, Blue boots beneath and out of sight."

        The music"Precious Memories"came from Grandpa Schober's



        "Friendship"

        If there is one ingredient in which adds warmth and love to our lives ...
        It is friendship.
        If there is one relationship to help us through all the others ...
        It is friendship.

        Friends surround us with the beauty of their caring.
        With friends we can share what we see, what we feel and what we love.
        Friends help us with our problems because they listen.
        And as they listen we begin to hear the language of our own hearts.

        With friends we can walk along the remembered paths of our lives
        And completely share our experiences.
        With friends we can work the soil of forgotten dreams
        That needed to be tended and nurtured once again.

        With friends we can plant the seed of our hearts new dreams.
        We can always return to a friend like going back to a special place ...
        And find the same warm feeling unchanged by time or distance.

        Life gives us friends so we can share the precious times and memorable moments
        Of being children, and teenagers, and adults, and parents, and grandparents.
        Life gives us friends so we can share the growing up ...
        And growing down and old.

        With friends we have a place to go to be accepted and understood.
        Together we can laugh.
        Together we can cry.

        Our thoughts are heard, our feelings are held in the heart of a friend.
        With friends our lives are made more full, more rich,
        More open, beautiful and blessed!!!!!

        --- Mine





        GRANDMA SHOES

        When I was very little All the Grandmas that I knew
        Were wearing the same kind Of ugly grandma shoes.. You know the kind I mean..
        Clunky heeled, black, lace-up kind, They just looked so very awful
        That it weighed upon my mind, For I knew, when I grew old.


        I'd have to wear those shoes, I'd think of that, from time to time
        It seemed like such bad news. I never was a rebel,
        I wore saddle shoes to school,
        And next came ballerinas
        Then the sandals, pretty cool. And then came spikes with pointed toes
        Then platforms, very tall, As each new fashion came along
        I wore them, one and all. But always, in the distance,
        Looming in my future, there, Was that awful pair of ugly shoes,
        The kind that Grandmas wear, I eventually got married

        And then I became a Mom Our kids grew up and left,
        And when their children came along, I knew I was a Grandma,
        And the time was drawing near When those clunky, black, old lace up
        shoes was what I'd have to wear. How would I do my gardening

        Or take my morning hike? I couldn't even think about
        How I would ride my bike! But fashions kept evolving
        And one day I realized That the shape of things to come
        Was changing, right before my eyes. And now, when I go shopping

        What I see, fills me with glee For, in my jeans and Reeboks
        I'm as comfy as can be. And I look at all these little girls
        And there, upon their feet Are clunky, black, old Grandma shoes,
        And I really think that's neat.

           Mine



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