| 8/15/06 02:29 am - Remembering Grandma
I was setting up a new account at myspace.com tonight and filling out the profile section. One of the categories is HEROES... which really got me to thinking... Sure, I'd like to say Aeryn Sun, John Crichton, Princess Leia. But, you know? Not really. My heroes are:
1. my grandmother (see below)
2. my husband - for his honor & perseverence & steadfast heart & love
3. My babies at work... Oh, how they teach me so much: that life is so very tenuous & so very precious, & even if you're only here on this planet for a few microts or solar days or weekens or monens, you will make an everlasting impression on those whose paths you cross. The souls of the infants I care for are the strongest I've ever known. They fight & fight & fight against insurmountable odds & endure so much... just to make it through one more day here with us. I am honored to get to help be God's hands as He cares for His tiniest "sparrows" using us.
Anyways, it got me to thinking about my grandmother & how much I do miss her so. I am very fortunate that nothing went unspoken between us before she died one morning from choking to death a couple of cycles ago. I found this on my computer & hadn't read it in awhile. I wrote this the morning of her funeral & shared it with everyone in attendance that day. Thought I'd share it with you, too.
“Lay down your sweet and weary head. Night is falling. You’ve come to journey's end. Sleep now and dream of the ones who came before. They are calling from across the distant shore. Why do we weep? What are these tears upon our face? What can you see on the horizon? Why do the white gulls call? Across the sea a pale moon rises. The ships have come to carry you home. Don't say: ‘We have come now to the end.’ White shores are calling. You and I will meet again.”
Lula Catherine was the most remarkable woman I have ever known. She taught me the most important lessons I need to know for this journey. Grandma only finished 8th grade, she never learned to drive, and she never was employed outside the home, but, oh, she knew how to love.
She told me she, too, had to grow up faster than most children, because she lost her momma when she was just a little girl. She always felt a huge responsibility to help her father, though, with their home and to care for and raise her siblings, especially her younger red-headed spunky sister Mary. Mary Elizabeth was Grandma’s best friend throughout her entire life, talking on the phone 5 or 6 times a day when they couldn’t see one another. They were ALWAYS supporting each other sharing laughter and tears, as I, too, hope to be there for my little red-headed, freckle-faced sister.
She desperately loved her husband Lilburn with all her strength (because that’s what it took sometimes when he was teasing her, or being cranky from his limitations imposed on him by diabetes). They were the best example of a faithful, loving, strong marriage that I ever saw as a child. A few years after Grandpa died, she told me of a special dream she’d had. They were young again, and she was sitting in his lap. She remembered his strong hands were around her, “And he was just loving me again” she said with a smile - no tears. I know that’s where she is now.
Grandma’s proudest accomplishments were her children. She loved her boys unconditionally, beaming as she unlatched the front door whenever she saw their cars pull up in the driveway and immediately forgiving them when stern words broke her heart. Since the moment she first held them, they were her reason for living. When I asked her a few months ago if she was scared to die, she replied, “No. But I’m not ready to leave my kids.” When I was first learning to deal with the pain of never holding my child, she told me, she, too, had a baby she never held, but who was waiting for her. I rejoice for her today to finally see that darling little face she’s waited 56 years for, and I am comforted that my angel is in the same arms that rocked me for countless hours, too.
Grandma cherished her grandchildren. When we were babies, she gently helped our mothers’ learn to care for us. She even shared with me recently that she was the one to give me my first bath. Grandma was never too busy to play dolls with us, or sing with us, or just let us crawl up in her lap and hold us for awhile. Even though Grandma always strove to have a clean house, I remember she would leave our fingerprints on the windowpane, because they came from “precious little hands,” she would say.
I have hundreds of beautiful memories of my years with Grandma, but the strongest are of her faith. She would always say, “I couldn’t make it, Sherry, if I didn’t have the Lord.” She taught me how to pray, how to be humble, and forgiving, and how to trust in Him.
Grandma was one of my very good friends. She understood me. I could talk to her about anything. . . anything. Even deeply personal thoughts and feelings I could share with no one else. I will miss her smile, her hugs, her sweet kiss on my cheek as she would say, “You are so precious. I love you so.” And I know she will miss us, too. But she is so happy today. More than anyone else I’ve met, I am confident I know where she is. We love you, Grandma. Goodnight.
- - - June 2, 2004 |
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