Grandma’s hands

I get so excited when I think about my grandmother. I consider her hands not like others. She was amazing in the kitchen, however I think about her hands as healing hands. She had hands that the energy pulled through and was felt through dimensions. She was a handmaiden of God. 

You see we had a relationship like no others in my family. In some ways she was so tender and protective of me. There was lots of jealousy involved from some of my cousins, however I was unaware when I was young. I’m sure I didn’t notice because I don’t have the capacity to feel it. When I was older I saw it. It didn’t matter to me then and now I don’t care at all. 

The thing that was so important to me was that she saw me. She saw me in a way that no one else did. Not as a nuisance, or a spoiled little girl, but as a spiritually gifted, sensitive empathic young lady. 

She was a pastor, teacher, evangelist type who saw the best in all people. She realized I had gifts that I would never have understood without guidance.  

She poured into me things that have made me into the woman I am today. Because of her, I am.

She took me under her wing when I needed someone to love me. I felt her love more than my own mother. Maybe because she was a sensitive like me, 

She could see everything I was and she still loved me for it. She took her time and nourished my spiritual gifts. She taught me how to trust spirit and get a prayer through. She encouraged me to be free. She made sure I knew I was loved.

Of all the people in the world she was my first love. When I think about love, it’s her picture that I see. Looking in the mirror, I see her in me. I strive to be the woman that she saw in me all those years ago as a child. I feel first even before I think because that’s how she trained me. As an empath, I have always been sensitive. So many in my family misunderstood me and at times mistreated me; however not my grandma. 

She was the kindest human being I have ever known. 

I so appreciate the profound effect she had on my life. I don’t take for granted the influence she projected into my life. The times when I felt afraid and alone, she was there to soothe me. The times I felt like a failure as a mother, she was there to guide and encourage me. 

Her hands while being able to cook a meal you would never forget was not the reason I think of her hands. Her hands were healing hands and when you were touched by them you never forgot. I will never forget.

The healer, writer, author in me would not be possible without her gentle, loving influence.