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The box at Grandma’s house
Filled with years of memories
To be found in her mind only
No sign of who’s in the photos
Or what event they represent
Many times we sat & looked
Through those memories
She talked, I listened. . .
But no notes were taken
Now she’s gone. . .
The memories now locked in those precious photos & keepsakes
How I yearn for those times to be back
To write down those memories
So all will remember
The treasures of Grandma’s life
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I like to walk with Grandpa,
His steps are short like mine.
He doesn't say "Now Hurry Up,"
He always takes his time.
I like to walk with Grandpa,
His eyes see thing like mine do -
Wee pebbles bright, a funny cloud,
Half hidden drops of dew.
Most people have to hurry,
They don't stop and see.
I glad that God made Grandpa,
Unrushed, and young like me."
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I love my grandma
And she loves me
How do I know?
She tells me, you see?
She tells me with kisses
She tells me with hugs
By reading my storybooks
And looking at bugs!
She tells me by laughing
And singing with me
(Don't tell my dear granny
But she sings off key!)
She tells me by doing the things
That a grandma must do
And in my ear she whispers daily...
Sweetie, Grandma loves you!
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