As I look on days gone past
I remember what my Grandma said last,
Pretty is as pretty does, and sister, always remember how much God loves.

I remember as a child, our family was so very poor,
Fried potatoes, macaroni and cornbread were our food source;
I also remember Grandma walking us to church, 
Our little, polished, shoes shining and placing them by our beds so we didn’t have to search.

As I look on days gone past
I remember what my Grandma said last,
Pretty is as pretty does, and sister, always remember how much God loves.

I was nineteen when she died, so mad at God, I refused to cry,
She was my rock, my lighthouse in the storm, what would I do now, yes, fight, stay alive, knowing this must be my soul’s sigh.
Getting married so young, two children, work was my escape,
Alcohol and drugs came later, I don’t remember the date.
Rehabs, self-medication that was my life,
Hating God still until He showed me forgiveness was the way not strife.

As I look on days gone past
I remember what my Grandma said last,
Pretty is as pretty does, and sister, always remember how much God loves.

Never forgetting that I was a victim of child molestation,
Going through the memories of a grandfather who I thought loved me but instead, today, it’s called being a survivor of incest, oh God, the desolation.
I turned to God when I thought I was crazy, praying to die but hearing the words, “You are alive”.
I cried, “Father, why?” and a still, soft voice said, “I knew you would forgive, and to help those who cross your path to know that they could again live and not have to hide from their lies”.
I have learned we are only as sick as our secrets,
So I spoke the truth, beginning a path of healing and resistance.

As I look on days gone past
I remember what my Grandma said last,
Pretty is as pretty does, and sister, always remember how much God loves.

I have lost my oldest son, who was thirty-five when he died,
This time I didn’t ask God why just help me through this so I could survive.
I remain loving, forgiving, thanking God for His love from above,

As I look on days gone past
I remember what my Grandma said last,
Pretty is as pretty does, and sister, always remember how much God loves.