On the death of my grandmother

Death leaves a heartache no one can heal;
Love leaves a memory no one can steal

When it rains, it pours.

Four months, almost to the day... and I'm facing another funeral. This time, it's for my grandmother. She died today at 1:30 a.m. after a brief bout with pneumonia. She is my last grandparent to die.

Granny was the one grandparent who really talked to me and genuinely listened. She was the kindest lady I ever knew... and the true definition of a lady. She lived a life full of grace and she defined the word "hospitality."

It's funny the things one recalls when reviewing the life of someone held so dear.

I remember how Granny loved flowers, especially irises. I think it was partly because of the flower's beauty, partly because it's Tennessee's state flower (Granny loved Tennessee - although she was born and raised in Mississippi, she moved to Tennessee when she was 18 and she always considered Tennessee her home), and partly because her sister, who whom she was very close, was named Iris.

I remember a toy stuffed animal - a terry cloth yellow flop-eared dog - that Granny kept tucked away in a cedar chest... except when I was around. She always brought it out for me.

I remember the organ in Granny's house. There were a few of us grandkids who could play it. I know that Granny played it, but I never heard her. She never played it for any of us.

Granny was a telephone operator back in the 1940s. When I was a little girl, she and I would play "telephone," and she actually taught me a lot about what it was like to be a telephone operator back then.

Granny always kept a jar of peanut M&Ms in the kitchen for us.
She always kept a glass jug of water in the refrigerator.
And she cooked the best lima beans, which she called "butter beans."
When I was a kid, she always drank Sugar Free Dr Pepper (which they don't make anymore).

She loved to quilt and crochet. She crocheted a lace bedspread for each of her granddaughters for their 16th birthday. I have mine carefully preserved. I plan to give it to the first of my children to get married. Over the years, Granny crocheted several things for me and I have them all.

Granny loved to see snow and these past several years she mourned the lack of it. She loved the spring flowers. She loved the autumn leaves. She loved birds, especially hummingbirds. She always kept bird feeders outside, near her windows, so she could watch the birds.

Granny grew up in rural Mississippi, on a farm. As a little girl, she had to get up at 4 in the morning to do farm chores like milking the cows. The hot summer days were spent chopping cotton. They had no electricity, no running water. The only entertainment was when her local church would have a "singing" or a revival. When I was younger, I never understood why she looked back on those days with such fondness. Now, I have a better understanding.

She loved company. She loved it when all the family could get together - something that became a lot more difficult as the family started to spread out. I moved away, from one end of the country to the other, and then back again. For these past three years, I've lived 6 hours away... closer, but still too far.

I will miss my Granny very much. Every time I see an iris, I'll see her. Every time I pick up a crochet hook, she'll be beside me. Whenever the snow falls, I'll walk in it and share her childlike joy in its beauty.

Thank you, Granny, for sharing so much of your life with me. I am a richer person for having known you and felt your abiding love.

In tribute, I honor my Granny's faith. She held fast to her Christian faith all her life. One of her greatest joys was when her husband of 55 years also became a Christian... only a year before he died.

This was one of her favorite songs.

"On the Far Side Banks of Jordan"

I believe my steps are growing wearier each day,
Still I have a journey on my mind;
The wars of this old world has ceased to make me want to stay,
But my one regret is leaving you behind.

If it proves to be God's will that I am first to go,
And somehow I've a feeling it will be;
When it comes your time to travel, likewise, don't prolong,
For I will be there waiting, don't you see.

I'll be waiting on the far side banks of Jordan,
I'll be waiting, drawing pictures in the sand;
And when I see you coming I will rise up with a shout,
And come running through the shallow waters, reaching for your hand.

Through this life we've labored hard to earn our meager fare,
It brought us trembling hands and failing eyes;
I'll just rest there on the shore and wait for that glad day,
Until you join me there in paradise.

I'll be waiting on the far side banks of Jordan,
I'll be waiting, drawing pictures in the sand;
And when I see you coming I will rise up with a shout,
And come running through the shallow waters, reaching for your hand.

I'll be waiting on the far side banks of Jordan,
I'll be waiting, drawing pictures in the sand;
And when I see you coming I will rise up with a shout,
And come running through the shallow waters, reaching for your hand.

And come running through the shallow waters, reaching for your hand.

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