In Memoriam: A Tribute to my Grandmother

My grandmother passed away last night. "Passed away." It sounds so poetic. A watered-down version for inquiring acquaintances. But when you walk into the room after hours of death-watching and see the sunken sockets, the discolored extremities, the gaping mouth where breath has stilled, somehow "passed away" doesn't capture the rawness of it.

My grandmother was a follower of Christ and a woman of faith who embodied 1 Corinthians 13:4-7. She was patient with my quick-tempered grandfather for 50-plus years of marriage. She was kind to her neighbor's mentally-handicapped daughter who called her every morning for 20-some-odd years. She did not envy the lives of others--she was one of the most joyful and content people of my acquaintance, finding fulfillment in being a social worker and later a wife, mother, and active member of her community. She did not boast nor was she arrogant though she had a master's degree at a time when roughly 5% of American women had college degrees. She was never (intentionally) rude though at times her outspoken honesty combined with being hard-of-hearing caused some funny faux pas! She was not self-seeking--even on her deathbed, rather than talking about herself, she asked visitors and nurses about themselves, their children, and their grandchildren. She was not irritable or resentful when the nurse at the hospital forgot to page the doctor to request her cough medicine. Instead, she congratulated the same nurse on her upcoming nuptials at the shift change. She never rejoiced at wrongdoing, nor condoned it when her grandchildren misbehaved. (On the contrary, she was not above administering discipline when the situation called for it!) She rejoiced with the truth, closing her eyes when I read her scripture on Sunday mornings and raising her hands in worship when I played hymns and praise songs on YouTube. She bore, believed, hoped and endured to the end.

I'll miss watching NCIS and the Hallmark Channel with her. I'll miss setting in the kitchen reading her the funny papers. I'll miss her eggs benedict and pecan pies. I'll miss her tirelessly asking me, "meet any boys?", I'll miss her outspoken opinions, her sense of humor, her untiring interest and loving presence in my life. See you in heaven, Grandma.