My beautiful grandmother went home home to be with Jesus last Saturday. And though I earnestly prayed all last week that she might be released from her earthly body, I have found that with each day that dawns, the world seems darker without her in it.
Today we will bury her and say goodbye. We will gather and celebrate her life. We will sing hymns that she chose herself, ones I have sung in her ears over the last days of her life.
Praise to the Lord God Almighty
Crown Him with Many Crowns
Holy, Holy, Holy
Great is Thy Faithfulness
Each song is full of strong affirmations of the tenets of the faith that so many people will gather to attest that my Grandmother lived with every fiber of her being.
We will tell stories and share memories. Like we have done for weeks. A constant parade of people and letters has passed through my parents’ house in the two months of my grandmother’s illness this fall. So many dear faces and sincere words of thanks.
You taught me how to pray.
You opened up the Bible for me.
I would never have gotten through my husband’s death without you.
You were my best friend.
You were my mother when my mother was gone.
I loved to hear you teach.
I met Jesus through your words.
You said just what I needed to hear.
She will be missed by so many for her wisdom and her strong spirit. For her consistent dependence on the Lord.
I already know that what I will miss is her presence. Her very constant place in my life.
I will miss her outstretched hand. The hand I held as a little girl, the one I have grasped at the table in prayer, the one that reached to me to steady her as she grew older and the one I held as she took her last breath.
The picture above is one of my very favorites of my Grandmother. It was taken before I knew her, when she was young and free. I used to stare at pictures like this one of my Grandmother when I was a little girl and just be in awe of her beauty.
Somehow I imagine that this picture is at least a little bit how she will look the next time she reaches her hand out for me to take.