It’s knowing where your roots are     

That sometimes gives you wings.           

It’s knowing there’s a place to go               

To escape the awful things.                     

It’s watching time go racing by

  Days, then weeks, then years.

It’s missing those who go too soon

  To mix your laughter with your tears.

It’s knowing there will always be                

At least one person on your side.           

Who’ll listen to your problems                     

And go along with you for the ride.         

 It’s remembering and forgetting

  Loving and arguing too.

It was God’s plan from the start

   And it’s still holding true.

It’s comfort and it’s heartache                     

It’s pride and disappointment too.           

It’s holding on and letting go                     

Cherishing old and accepting new.             

So hold each day like a precious crystal

  That might break if you let it go.

 For roots and wings are compatible things

Make sure your children know.

It’s waiting for the next little one

To come and steal your heart:

And wondering how being called

“Grandma or Grandpa”

Is such a warm and fuzzy start.

- Faye Cook