As she passes over we sit by her bed
Listening more closely to the words that she says,
Like threads of pure silver her story is told
Beautiful gardens, these memories of old.
Grandma’s got a story to tell.
Something to give, and nothing to sell.
Her heart’s full of memories so dear to her self.
Yes, Grandma’s got a story to tell.
She remembers the way that she rocked me to sleep.
I’m fifty years old but this memory she keeps;
She speaks of her husband, may God rest his soul.
He’s no longer with us but the memories are gold.
She remembers her mother when she was a child,
Her voice grows much softer, a tear, then smile.
And "I’ll soon be with her where memories live on
And thank God for your memories after I’m gone."