When holding hands can change the world.

It’s been so long since I’ve writ­ten here I am not even sure if I should still write.

Or if I still know how to write.

There has been so much going on in our lives that I must admit friends,

I am feel­ing very fragile.




They kicked every­one out late last night.

The nurses telling my mom that she needed to rest before tomorrow.

As if any­one could rest with death so close.


The plan was for her  to go home today with hospice.

That was her last wish. And who could blame her. Isn’t that what we would all want?


To lie in our bed one more time.

To smell those famil­iar smells.

To touch com­fort one last time…


But as night grew darker she got worse and was moved to ICU.

There was no way to make it home.


In those scary moments, when we were mak­ing our way back.

There this nurse.

Who held her hand.

As she held her hand she held our hearts.

And against pro­to­col, she prayed.

She held her hand and prayed.

I knew I loved that nurse. That rebel, that rule breaker.


See, that sim­ple kind ges­ture– gave my grandma such peace.



It took just a few moments of her time to hold my grandma’s hand and pray.

It wasn’t big but it had a huge impact.

It didn’t cost any­thing but it changed our world.


Whose  hand are you going to hold today?



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