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