wordless wednesday.

[Violette Between by Alison Strobel. Have A Little Faith by Mitch Albom.]

Later, we go sing at the nursing home. There's always this sweet little lady who wears pearls and a nice Sunday sweater, and her curled nicely, and when we greet them at the end before we leave, she always holds onto your hand with her soft, crinkled one with the thin bones standing out amongst soft blue veins, and her eyes tear up without fail every time.

Then there's this other lady who smiles at me and tells me (every time) that I have the same smile as her grand-daughter Amy, whose fiancee is an animator for Nickelodeon. (i don't doubt it, either; this grandma's one of the coherent ones, to be lovingly honest) And she only sees them once a year, at Christmas. That's kind of sad to me, seeing as how my Grammy . . . hehe . . . sees us every day. ;) I know not everyone can do such a thing, but it's sad that it's only once a year. Soon she'll be gone, and you know what? With how busy those people are, it'll probably only hit them years later that they wasted time and missed out and never learned the things they could've from her. . . and she'll be gone. And they will have missed out on learning that God is her strength, and she's old enough to know where purpose and Love and strength comes from, and they will have missed out on making plain old memories, of the normal, funny, and quirky kinds alike.

That's all I got to say today. So not wordless. But am I ever?

Maybe once in a while . . . ;)

By the way, this new Lifehouse album, Smoke and Mirrors, I love it.

--Grammy dear, the other day, sipping on the sweet-coconut-chai tea I made for her. I myself had me some green tea. With honey. 

I made myself some sweet coconut chai tea:)