rebekah
03-07-2002, 04:15 PM
A little some thing I have been compulsively weighting. Another part of the life-changing weekend. Grab a tissues box. I don’t know how this will affect you.
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Child: Grandma, they tell me you will die. Where are you going?
Grandma: I will go were my spirit is needed.
Child: Why must you go?
Grandma: Because the work I have been put on this earth to do is done.
Child: Why can’t I go with you? I don’t want to be with out you.
Grandma: It is a tragedy to leave before your life work is done. It is a blessing to leave after your life work is done.
Child: You won’t come back?
Grandma: I will be back for a moment here and there.
Child: How will I know you have been here?
Grandma: My face flashing before your eyes… maybe in a crowed…maybe in a dark window. The feel of my arms around you as you fall asleep…in many, many ways my little one.
Child: Will you still love me?
Grandma: Even more, even more.
Child: So you will visit me?
Grandma: Every night I can.
Child: Can I visit you?
Grandma: Close your eyes and think of me, and I will come.
Child: You will come?
Grandma: Every time you think of me, every time you hold something I owned, Every time you reach a millstone I should have seen, every time you *need* me.
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Child: Grandma, they tell me you will die. Where are you going?
Grandma: I will go were my spirit is needed.
Child: Why must you go?
Grandma: Because the work I have been put on this earth to do is done.
Child: Why can’t I go with you? I don’t want to be with out you.
Grandma: It is a tragedy to leave before your life work is done. It is a blessing to leave after your life work is done.
Child: You won’t come back?
Grandma: I will be back for a moment here and there.
Child: How will I know you have been here?
Grandma: My face flashing before your eyes… maybe in a crowed…maybe in a dark window. The feel of my arms around you as you fall asleep…in many, many ways my little one.
Child: Will you still love me?
Grandma: Even more, even more.
Child: So you will visit me?
Grandma: Every night I can.
Child: Can I visit you?
Grandma: Close your eyes and think of me, and I will come.
Child: You will come?
Grandma: Every time you think of me, every time you hold something I owned, Every time you reach a millstone I should have seen, every time you *need* me.