Today, I celebrated the home going of my beloved grandma. She
died suddenly on December 20th, when I was twelve. It was a
difficult time for me, and yet, today, after many decades of missing her, I can
celebrate her life and smile because I know my grandma loved me and I believe
her love lives on in my heart and life today.
When I grew up, my family lived on the east coast and we traveled each summer to visit my grandma and my other grandparents in Wisconsin
for a couple weeks. Grandma always greeted me with a big hug after our two day
trip. She had her delicious date-filled, oatmeal cookies waiting for us,
along with her homemade pan of “Mounds Bars,” that tasted just like the candy
from the store!
I remember when Grandma purchased a red, metal, Radio Flyer wagon for my sister, two
cousins, and me to play with when we visited her. We’d pull each other in the
wagon, or better yet, push each other, so we could take turns sitting in the
wagon, while steering with the handle and experience the sense of driving on
the sidewalks around her block! What fun that was!! Grandma wasn’t concerned
about which toys boys or girls played with. I enjoyed playing with her
assortment of plastic army men and trucks and jeeps, too, as well as whatever
else she had around for us kids.
Sometimes, Grandma would ask my older cousin and me to walk
two blocks to Timm’s Dairy, a corner grocery store, to pick up some bread or
milk. It was extra fun, when she’d give us money to each buy an orange push-up!
What a cool and refreshing treat! She also allowed me to water her grass, one
year, when it was extremely dry. I stood at the corner of her front walk, where
it met the main sidewalk, and watered a two-foot square section of brown grass
until I could “see” it turning green! It took a long time and I think it mostly
looked like mud, but that was fine with Grandma!!
J
I remember, when I was young, telling my Grandma that our
time zone was an hour behind hers, since we lived on the east coast and she
lived in the Midwest. I believe she probably gently told me the correct answer
and when I disagreed, but she didn’t argue with me or try to force the correct
answer on me. Instead, she just listened to me and let me figure it out and
learn it for myself, when I was able to understand it better. I cherish that
memory and look back with appreciation at her kind and wise response.
I still remember visiting Grandma’s house and finding an
old, hand-wringer washing machine in her basement and thought it was strange
and funny. I remember the large, metal keyholes in her bathroom and bedroom
door locks that were so big, you could look through them. They needed a large,
black, metal key to lock or unlock them. I remember the round, table set in the
corner of her dining room where my sister and two cousins ate, while all the
adults sat around a very large dining room table. Those were such good times to
share together.
I was surprised when I visited the 3rd grade
Sunday school class at my Grandma’s church. The teacher asked the children if
they had been reading their Bibles during the week. I didn’t even know I was
supposed to be reading a Bible, even though I went to church and Sunday school,
every week, with my parents. My parents had a Bible sitting on an end table.
They said to never set anything on it because it was an important book and we
were to be sure to dust it before the pastor visited. I realized, later, that
Grandma went to a church that believed and talked about God’s word and faith in
God as being important, real, and personally meaningful.
I was happy when we moved from New Jersey to Illinois and
were able to see Grandma for Christmas. How exciting it was to see her and my
other grandparents, and many other relatives, too! The second year, we looked
forward to visiting her again! Mom talked with Grandma, a week before
Christmas, and they talked about us driving up to see her. Grandma was all
ready for us, with her presents wrapped and sitting under her Christmas tree,
and her baking was done, including her delicious date-filled oatmeal cookies. A
couple days later, my sister and I walked four blocks to Central Park in our
town to see Santa Claus. As we waited in line, a neighbor lady came up to us
and said we had to go home right away. We found out that my beloved grandma had
died, five days before Christmas, and we would not be seeing her at all, not at
Christmas, nor ever again. I remember sitting on our living room couch, looking
up at the ceiling, trying desperately to keep my tears from falling down my
face, while our pastor visited us that evening.
It was a very difficult Christmas for all of us. Even though
I was twelve, I was not allowed to go into my Grandma’s house, and wished I
could have visited, one last time, to take in more memories to add to the ones
I had. The strange thing for me was that my other grandparents had paid for a Santa
to visit us at their house on Christmas Eve and we were supposed to sing for
him before he would give us any presents. I didn’t feel like singing that year.
I missed my Grandma!!! Then, on Christmas morning, my little brother had to
have emergency surgery to put tubes in his ears to help with his ear infections!
It was a different Christmas for all of us.
I remember going to Grandma’s funeral at church and being so
surprised to see someone who looked just like my grandma!!! It turned out to be
my great aunt from Montana, my grandma’s sister, whom I had not met. I think I
thought Grandma had come back from the dead; they looked so much like! I was
disappointed that I couldn’t go to the cemetery site to see Grandma’s body laid
to rest. I think I had to stay in the nursery to take care of my younger
brother. It was also pretty cold outside.
Even to this day, I still treasure the gift that Grandma had
sitting under her Christmas tree for me that year. It was a pink and white pin
cushion, with a two-inch, crocheted, lace-like edge around it. She had pinned
it to a piece of cardboard and wrote, “To Linda, from Grandma” with the year on
it. That was her last note to me. Oh, how I miss her and cherish that note and
gift!!!
I learned two other things about my Grandma, after she died,
that told me about her faith in God. At her funeral, I learned that her
favorite song was, “I Come to the Garden Alone” by Charles A. Miles. The words
of the song are:
1. I come to the garden alone,
While the dew is still on the roses,
And the voice I hear falling on my ear
The Son of God discloses.
o Refrain:
And He walks with me, and He talks with me,
And He tells me I am His own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there,
None other has ever known.
These
words tell me of a person who talks with God, as a friend – honest and true –
and one who trusts God, in the morning and the evening, and all day long.
Grandma became a widow, with two daughters and a son, ages 16, 11, and 7 to
raise on her own. Although my grandfather had owned and run a candy store in
town, with homemade candies made from his special recipes, he had no recipes
written down, and my grandma could not continue the business. I am sure that my
Grandma’s faith, ingenuity, and strength of character are what kept her going,
especially, at that time, and in the years that followed. My grandma was able
to continue living in her home by making the upstairs of her two-story house
into an apartment that she could rent for income, while she and her children
continued to live on the main floor.
Another
interesting story that helps me know more about my grandma’s faith is what my
mom told me about the events at the time of Grandma’s death. Grandma lived
alone and we were all glad that she didn’t die alone, especially in her
basement, where she may not have been found for several days. Apparently, my
grandma had called a friend, around supper-time, to say that she wasn’t feeling
well. The friend had been stirring her soup on the stove and felt an urge to
stop what she was doing and go over to my grandma’s house right away. She
turned off the stove and went to see my grandma. Grandma answered the door and
they sat on her couch, talking about Christmas. Then, Grandma said she was
tired and died in her friends arms. I can’t think of a better way to pass from
this life to the next, especially when you live alone. I am so glad that
Grandma’s friend, trusted the nudge that she had from the Lord to go and be
with my grandma, at that time. I’m grateful for them having such a remarkable
and close friendship, and that each of them trusted God enough to listen to His
“still, small voice” and were led by His Spirit in their lives. To me, this is
a testament of my grandma’s faith in God, as well as her friend’s faith, too,
and of their very special friendship.
Grandma
was the only person who loved me with such an amazing and unconditional love. I
remember one time I was visiting at her house, and was looking out her window,
trying to see what the three girls in her neighborhood were doing, across the
street. As I got closer to the window, my forehead bumped the window and
cracked the glass! I was very surprised and also petrified that I’d be in
trouble and get yelled at, but no, Grandma took me in her arms and loved me all
the same. I will never forget her kind gesture towards me that day.
Interestingly,
as the years went by, and I grew up, I missed my grandma tremendously. I missed
her when I graduated from high school and went to college. I missed her being
present at my wedding. I missed being able to tell her about being pregnant and
sharing the joy of each of our four children born into our family. I missed
being able to tell her about my children, as they grew up. I missed her every
single Christmas, and when December 20th arrived, I’d think of her
and miss her even more. I drove past her house and around her block, where she
had lived, many times. I’d also visit her gravesite and those of her husband,
sister, parents, and other relatives. As time went by, I’d also be at the
cemetery where she was buried, for the burial of other relatives - my other
grandparents, my aunts, a great aunt, and others, and I’d always stop at her
grave afterwards, even if I had to search and look for her gravestone, under the
snow.
After
missing my beloved grandmother terribly for over 43 years, I went to a six-week
class on grief and realized that she was the primary, loving parental figure in
my life. Then, I understood why she meant so much to me and why I experienced
such a deep, ongoing loss, for all of those years. I was finally able to grieve
her death fully and appreciate her for who she was and what she meant to me and
still means to me. Since I believe that love never ends, I believe her spirit
of love lives on, not just in heaven, and not just within my heart, but I
believe I can sense her presence of spirit with me - when I picture her sitting
with me or walking or talking with me; especially, at times when I need her
loving presence, even just briefly.
In time, I have learned to celebrate her life and be
grateful for her. I smile when I think of her, and yet, there are still those
moments of sadness, when I miss her being here, in the flesh. Each year, just
before Christmas, I set the gifts she gave me, the ones I still have, under my
Christmas tree. It’s a way for me to remember her and to remember her love for
me, and to celebrate her life and how she touched mine and made such an impact
on me and my faith, as well. I set out my favorite stuffed animal, a monkey
named Chippy, with brown fur and a plastic face, hands, and white tennis shoes.
My sister and I each received a monkey for Christmas from Grandma, with
slightly different colored fur. When my sister thought it was hers, we both
pulled on him and his plastic hand fell off. She no longer wanted him, but I
loved him all the more, and still do, even though my youngest sister played
with him while I was at college and he has very little fur now.
I also set out
two coloring books from her – one of fashion hats and one of RinTinTin. Then, I
set out a G.I. Joe doll that has always seemed strange to me, because he wasn’t
as much fun to play with as my Barbie dolls. I also set the beautiful pink and
white, crocheted pin cushion doily with the piece of cardboard, on which
Grandma had written my name and the year, in her own handwriting – her last
note to me, tenderly under my Christmas tree.
Lastly, I set out a black and
white photo taken
of my Grandma and me, the summer before she died, standing in
front of our family station wagon, just before we drove back home. We have our
arms around each other and I can see she’s hugging me, as always, with genuine
love for me, as I look at the indentation of her hand against my sweater. I know my grandma loved me!!
Last year, as I continued my new tradition of remembering
and celebrating my grandma’s life, I sat, looking at the monkey, the coloring
books, the G.I. Joe doll, the pin-cushion, as well as, at our picture together,
sitting under our Christmas tree, and thought of her. And, then, for the first
time ever, I had a new sense and appreciation for my G.I. Joe doll! I realized
what it had probably meant to my grandma!! She had been a widow for several
years, having lost her husband, father, and sister in one year, when her only
son went overseas, during WWII, and she did not know if he would come back
alive or wounded, or at all. I had a new respect and understanding of my
grandma that day, and empathized with her possible feelings, of having her son
away, in the war, and appreciated her amazing strength and deep and abiding
faith that must have helped her get through extremely difficult times. I felt
like she had shared a deep and personal part of her life with me. I felt closer
to her then, and still do.
This year, I also appreciated again, the “red, Christmas
boot” with plastic mistletoe from my grandma
that I set out every year on our
piano and the two small, wooden ornaments from my grandma – one of a red cardinal
and one of two angels singing.
My grandma’s spirit of love touches me, even to this day. I
know her love for me is with me, on this day and always!!
Thank you, Grandma,
for your amazing gift of love for me and for sharing your deep faith and
tremendous compassion with me and with others. I will always remember and
appreciate you and your gift of love for me. I look forward to when I can see
you again, on the other side, when I, too, have been transformed from this body
of flesh, to the new one that God will give me, at that time. Until then, I
love you, Grandma!! (2015-12-20)
Precious Linda, c. 2015