Remember me this way...

I recently read this poem that was on a funeral card and it says it all, I think. This was a woman who devoted her life to being a wife and mom and grandma and loving friend to many. She didn't punch a time clock..or make a huge salary.. or wear fancy clothes to work.. or have power lunches. She was a , a mom , a volunteer, a member of a church family.. she had no degree or title behind her name. Yet.. she had hundreds upon hundreds of people come to pay their respects. Its at times like this that I take such pride in my choices in life.

These Hands
I’m proud of them - these hands of mine;
So many things they’ve done.
They’ve planted flowers, and pulled the weeds,
And worked out in the sun.
They’ve kneaded bread and cooked the meals
More times than I can say.
They’ve washed a ton of clothes, I guess,
And put them all away.
They’ve soothed a small child’s fevered brow
And rubbed an aching head.
And when the evening shadows fell,
They put the brood to bed.
They’ve borne the bite of winter’s cold
And felt the warmth of spring.
And on one finger long ago
Was put a wedding ring.
And when my journey here is o’er,
I still shall thankful be
That these old worn-worn hands of mine
Have done so much for me.