Celebration of Life

Shortly after my Grandma passed away my mom asked me if I would be willing to speak at the funeral. I know, right!!! How on Earth, could I possibly stand up and talk about this woman who meant so much to me at the same time I had to say my final goodbyes??? But I said yes. So I sat down and starting writing. I wrote little notes about how much she meant to me and all the really special memories I have. On Monday when the time came I felt prepared...that is until the music started. We opened her service with the hymn "How Great Thou Art"...and I can't sing that song on a good day. Almost 22 years ago we opened my Grandfather's funeral with the same hymn, so every time I hear it I am 12 years old, saying goodbye to my Grandfather again. Before we were halfway through the first verse, I was a sobbing mess. It was followed by a reading of Psalm 23 by my sister. Then I was up. It was my turn. I tried not to cry but I did. There was so much to say, and I only got to say half of it, because I was afraid that my sorrow would overtake me. So I want to share ALL of it here.

If there is one thing I know about my Grandma, it's how very much she loved her family. You could see it in her face and hear it in her voice when she talked about anyone of us. She was everything that a Grandma should be and more. Her love was so unconditional and pure. If she didn't agree with our choices or behaviors she never let it show. In my teenage and young adult years we wrote letters to one another. Something that my mom says that I acquired from her. They were never anything special...just a little card here and there, and after I was married with children I often sent her pictures of my kids. She loved to write about going to church with different ladies and out to lunch. She always shared her babysitting adventures with Tyler. He was born when I was 15, so she enjoyed many years of one on one time with him. Time that she truly cherished. As a college student I interviewed her for a class project. I learned so much more about her life at that time, and I'm so glad I took the opportunity to sit and talk with her. 

Through our letters and my interview with her, she taught me so many things...even when she wasn't trying to teach me. Most of all, everyone has a cross to bear in this life, but it's up to you if you let those burdens weigh you down. Her life wasn't always the easiest, but she bore her crosses with grace and dignity. She truly, honestly had the most giving heart. Well into her 70's she continued to give to those she loved and to her community as an election judge and as a volunteer for the red cross. She gave fellow church members a ride to bible study, ladies aide and church services. It's easy to see where my own mother inherited her philanthropic heart. 

Many of my memories are about her cooking. When I spoke with Laura shortly after she passed, one of the first things we talked about was her cooking. Dylan loved her Christmas Cookies, and thankfully Heather took the time to learn how to bake them. Laura couldn't get enough of her chicken and noodles. Matt absolutely adored her cherry pies, and they were even more special because they were made with cherries off the tree right outside her kitchen window, but for me it was her biscuits and gravy. When I asked her for the recipe, there was no recipe to be had. I stood at her stove in her kitchen and she taught me. I know how to make it by heart now, but the most important ingredient was her love. Now I make it for my family and they love it as much as I do. 

I will never forget my time spent as a child in her house in Buckingham. I got to be a kid in the purest form of the word. I played with my cousins, had fun and experienced a grandparent's love. 

My grandmother planned her own funeral years ago, and in her final days, my mother and uncles found a poem that she left for us. I would like to share that with you now:

To My Family, 

When I must leave you for a  little while

Please, do not grieve and shed wild tears, 

And hug your sorrow to you through the years,

But start out bravely with a gallant smile,

And for my sake and in my name

Live on and do all things the same.

Feed not your loneliness on empty days

But fill each waking hour in useful ways.

Reach out your hand in comfort and in cheer,

And I in turn will comfort you and hold you near.

And never, never be afraid to die...

I'm waiting for you in the sky!

                          

                                With Love, 

                               From your Mom and Grandma

I did great reading the poem, that is, until the last line. I just couldn't hold back the tears and that's okay. My Grandma wasn't afraid to show a little emotion, so I know she wasn't bothered by mine. Many of my mom's friends shared with me after the service that even though they never met my grandmother, I made her very real to them. And that meant a lot to me.

On Sunday night, before the service our family gathered at the Hilton Garden Inn in Kankakee. We walked over to a little Mexican Restaurant where they easily accommodated our party of 26. It felt so good and so right for us all to be together at that moment in time. We caught up with one another and shared memories. After dinner we sat in the lobby of the Hilton for a few more hours and shared our favorite stories. My mom gave each one of us a paperweight that belonged to Grandma. She collected them and always had them in her windowsill. I had copies of my Grandparents pictures made for all my cousins, the ones posted here on the blog in addition to some other ones of when we all were kids growing up in their home. While we were sitting there catching up, I couldn't help but think that Grandma and Grandpa were finally together in heaven after 22 years, and they were looking down on us thinking "We did good." I know someday I will see them again, but for now the victory is theirs.