Recently, and over the years, I've requested prayer for my 98 year-old grandmother (my dad's mother). She had suffered a stroke a couple of weeks ago. Today at 3:18 p.m. (on my birthday), God finally called her home. I don't know that I can ever understand God's timing. In addition to calling my grandmother home on my birthday, He used the occasion of the week of my birth thirty-eight years ago to call my grandmother's mother (my great-grandmother) home to Him. My grandfather (her husband) and his brother both died at Christmas in 1986.
At my age (38), birthdays are not always that meaningful. Except for 16th (drivers license), 18th (right to vote and register with selective service), 25th (decrease in car insurance rates), most birthdays pass and a year later I have no idea what happened on that date. However, I will never forget my 38th birthday.
Today is a day of great grief for my grandmother's family. She had five sons (four of whom are still living) and one daughter, twenty-one grandchildren, approximately 40 great grand children, and 5 or so great, great grandchildren (that I'm aware of). At the time of her passing, 4 of her surviving children were able to make it to her bedside and tell her "Goodbye".
I was not there today. Windy and I were fortunate to be able to see her the week before her stroke. For all practical purposes, the person we knew went away on the day of the stroke. I was able to tell her that I loved her and that I was looking forward to her 100th birthday. She was a big Willard Scott fan and I had told her that we would call Willard Scott for her 100th. Unfortantely, we never came to that point.
While none of you knew my grandmother, and I've never blogged before, I thought I would tell you a little about her and how special she was:
Faith---It was through her faith that her children each came to know Jesus. My grandfather never attended church and would not speak openly of faith. At some points, he would even discourage my grandmother from going to chruch. However, my grandmother would walk several miles to church with her children every Sunday. She instilled in her children the importance of faith. Because of her faith, my father came to know Jesus and then he (and my mother) showed me the way to Jesus as well. My grandmother leaves a rich history of faith.
Hard Work--My grandparents were sharecroppers. In fact, the first four of my grandmother's children were born on the farm that they tended. As I've been told, my grandmother and grandfather (and their children) worked very hard in the cotton fields. In addition to my grandmother's work in the fields and raising six children, she made her own lye soap and made the children's clothes (often from sackcloth, as I've been told). Once they moved off of the farm, my grandmother went to work as a seamstress in a garment factory where she worked for several years. In her later working years, she became a cook at my school's cafeteria. No cafeteria has had better food than when my grandmother was cooking there. There have probably been several premature deaths from cholesteral from that food, but it certainly tasted good. I would have the opportunity to see my grandmother at work every day. In all that she did, she exhibited a strong work ethic that was passed along to my dad and I hope to me.
Grief--My grandmother was so unfortunate as to endure more than her share of grief in her life. She was one of six children. Her history with grief began at an early age. By the time she was twenty, one of her brothers had been murdered and one other had died from a brain injury after falling off a horse. Later she witnessed the deaths over time of each of her other siblings and one son (who died at age 73). Her husband died at Christmas in 1986. She saw all of her childhood friends and adult friends pass one by one. Despite all of this grief, she marched on with a zeal for life.
I've told you guys before, that doctors have counted my grandmother out three times before her eventual passing. With the exception of this last time, she has bounced back. Medicare must have hated her. They paid for hospice on two occasions over the course of 20 years and neither time did she succomb to her illness. With her second to last terminal illness, she lost the ability to walk and care for herself (she was 95 or 96). For the first time in her life, she no longer lived at home. Her transition to a nursing home was not easy. For a while, she entered a depression and wondered aloud why God had not taken her. However, even with the nursing home, she gradually transitioned back to her zeal for life. She was assigned a roommate that was very compatible with her and that looked after her. I think she really wanted to make it to 100, if for no other reason than to hear Willard Scott call her a "pretty little lady".
Love--My grandmother loved me very much. Both of my parents worked while my brother and I were growing up. When I would get sick, I would stay with my grandmother. Like my mom, she would wait on me hand and foot. We would watch "The Price is Right' together. She so loved Bob Barker! She always cooked my favorite foods. She would let me help her when she was cooking. Basically, she did the grandmotherly things.
Racism--On a more humorour note, my grandmother was raised in different era. She never fully adapted to the civil rights movement. She treated all people with kindness as far as I could tell, but she wouldn't know politically correct language if it hit her in the face. While she treated people with kindness, she could definitely throw around the "N" word without hesitation.
We knew she intended no malice once she settled into the nursing home. Her favorite nurse was an African American lady named Pearl. This lady was especially kind to my grandmother and my grandmother was very fond of Pearl. However, she routinely referred to Pearl by the "N" word and often used the word in front of Pearl. My grandmother apparently so no offense in the use of the word. However, it embarassed my dad to no end that he would refer to Pearl in such a way. Pearl would later discuss it with my dad and she made it clear that she took no offense to my grandmother. At 98, Pearl thought wise to offer my grandmother a lot of latitude.
Thanks for indulging my first blog. After hearing the news of my grandmother's passing, I could not focus on my work. This has helped me to remember and appreciate all that my grandmother meant to me.
Please remember my dad in your prayers. He knew this day would come and he knows that she is no longer suffering, but I could tell when I spoke to him that he was hurting at his loss.
