Grandma's Birthday

On Sunday mornings, I mandate the music on the way to church. Johnny Cash's last CD, My Mother's Hymn Book, plays. It is just Johnny and his guitar. Simple. Powerful. His voice distinctive as ever, but older.

It is the CD he was the most proud of recording in his life, "I am so glad I got that done." The album cover shows his hand and the tattered pages of his mother's hymn book filled with all the hymns she played as she faced life. The songs he grew up with. The songs he sang as he picked cotton. The songs he comforted himself with when his father raged. The songs he sought out when his brother died. The songs of facing the strife of life with God's strength and courage.

Today a lump filled my throat as I listened, silently (unusual, I know). As I gazed out at the tree-covered hillsides freshly bathed in snow. The sun shone through the light cloud cover creating a soft ball of light causing the falling snowflakes to twinkle in their dance to the ground. Unspeakable beauty.

For today is Grandma's birthday. As I watch the twinkling world around me, I wonder what this day looked like when she arrived in 1916 near Vale, SD. My head tells me she is resting peacefully with a majestic winter view in Whitewood, SD surrounded by her family, but today my heart is so sad.

It is Sunday morning. Every Sunday morning of my childhood was spent in fellowship with my grandparents. Afterwards, my Grandmother would always envelope me in a tight hug...no formal handshake for her. She would look in my eyes and inquire how I was. The warmth of a Grandmother's arms on a cold winter morning could make it melt away in an instant.

The quietness of Sunday morning broken by the sound of hymns "...Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling you...Come home, come home; ye who are weary come home..." And the tears roll in time with the familiar lyrics that I know are so true.

So many birthdays were shared with Grandma throughout my life. As child I loved this day because I knew Grandpa would take Grandma out to eat for a special treat that she loved...pizza. She would order her favorite with encouragement, super supreme. I loved sharing this with her. Even years later when I was working at Pizza Hut, she would come in late, after the lunch rush and after finishing her grocery shopping to say hi. Sometimes I could sit with her on my break and we would talk quietly and laugh often in the familiar red booth. I loved the sound of her laugh. I can still hear it...

"Just as I am..." Grandma always had a hymn book sitting on the piano. I remember a green one from long ago, but then I also remember a brown one. As I learned to play the piano, I looked forward to the day when I could play from that book for my grandparents. One of the first hymns I learned, I can still play. "Lord, now take me and make me Thine own, Thy precious blood for my sins doth atone; Trusting thy strength..." I know I played this hymn so often Grandma had to have grown weary, but she always smiled and encouraged me to keep playing.

I haven't sat down to the piano for a year or so, as I let my daughter play these days, but as I think about that familiar ol' piano that now sits in my living room, I remember an old hymn book is still in the piano bench. I think it is the green one which I tucked away at the bottom, safe from little fingers...trying to preserve the tattered pages. Today, I decide it needs to rest upon the piano again. I am sure my rusty rendition of my first hymn will make Grandma smile...



Ironically, we took Grandma to pizza late last summer for our last visit. Fourteen of us gathered around her, and despite the chaos, I think she enjoyed the outing. She had grown more weary since our last visit, and it was hard.

Hymns touch my soul and comfort me, as they did Johnny. It is hard for some to understand how an old man could be most proud of his last recording when he had an amazing musical career, but it isn't about the success, it is about the heart. The heart that endures the strife of life and smiles again.

Today, we ate pizza, for Grandma.


Postscript: When I awoke today, I was postive that it was January 9, but I have reluctantly been convinced otherwise, and it is even at the top of my entry...January 10. I stand corrected and acknowledge I am actually a day late for Grandma's birthday. However, I have decided to leave my post because it is from the heart today. Please forgive me.