Family Hands

(Mary Chapin Carpenter) Last Sunday we got in the car and we drove To the town you were raised in, your boyhood home The trees were just turning, up on the ridge And this was your valley when you were a kid You showed me the railroad that your daddy worked on As we neared the old house where your granny lives on She's nearing ninety years now, with her daughters by her side Who tend the places in the heart where loneliness can hide Raised by the women who are stronger than you know A patchwork quilt of memory only women could have sewn The threads were stitched by family hands, protected from the moth By your mother...and her mother, the weavers of your cloth Your grandmother owned a gun in 1932 When times were bad just everywhere, you said she used it too