Signs of springs are sprouting everywhere. The yellow daffodils were first. Then I noticed the red tulips. On Saturday the warm sunshine encouraged the trees to blossom too. The new grass seed is creating a verdant carpet in my yard.
And amidst the changing season, my grandmother quietly slipped away on Saturday afternoon. With 95 years of living, she had grown weary as the maladies of old age descended in recent years. In my heart I know she is at peace now, but it is bittersweet because that same heart tightens with the memories of a vivacious grandmother.
As I gaze out at my emerging peonies, I think of her, as I always do because her peony bushes were so beautiful (it was so hard to resist plucking the pretty blossoms as a child!). Her yard was always alive with color, as I would run and play with my brother and sisters and cousins during our treasured visits. I loved running barefoot through that soft, plush grass!
As we would run and play, my grandmother's hands were never idle, as she pulled weeds and worked in her garden, that abundant garden I will never forget, and the produce that she could transform into a feast that I still recall with fondness, and if I am honest, a longing to have just one more of grandma's Thanksgiving dinners with mashed potatoes piled high and covered in rich, flavorful gravy...and green beans that only grandma could make that enticing to a child. She was frugal in many ways after surviving the great depression, but never with food~her generosity overflowed as she quickly shared her gift with all of us (family, friends, neighbors, and community) in times of hardship or sorrow or celebration or just because!
The aroma of bacon cooking still often triggers a craving for grandma's platter piled high (and as my own children now clamor for bacon I smile.) We would start the day at grandma's house with grandpa at the end of the table as he bowed his head in prayer and gratitude before we indulged in our bountiful breakfast
Then, as grandma went about her morning chores, she oft was humming or softly singing hymns, and if I close my eyes I can still hear her. Even now I will listen to hymns during the day for as an adult I now understand the strength and comfort the words give... and perhaps to also help motivate me to find my grandmother's energy to finish the chores I too often find dreary!
In the rare moments of rest in the afternoon or evening, my grandmother's hands were still busy as she would crochet in her rocking chair. I always loved watching her hands so gracefully transform thread into beautiful doilies and yarn into colorful blankets. As a child it was enchanting, so when I became a young bride-to-be, I asked her to create the lace for my wedding dress. That was nearly 23 years ago that my mother and grandmother created the perfect wedding dress for me that I still love. The lace that adorned my dress on my wedding day was accentuated by my grandparents' presence on my wedding day and throughout my life...quietly exemplifying the deep love and partnership of marriage and family for 58 years. My grandmother was married to a man she adored (we all did), and she missed him every day after he was gone.
Today, as I walk through my memories I cry, I smile, and I laugh as I try to say goodbye to a woman who will always remain close to my heart. She dearly touched the child I was, the woman I became, and hopefully the grandmother I will become.
I feel the squeeze of her tight hug in my heart today and I hear her voice...
"Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling--
Calling for you and for me.
See on the portals He's waiting and watching,
Watching for you and for me.
Come home, come home,
Ye who are weary, come come;
Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling,
Calling, "O sinner, come home!"
