Dear Daughters,

We buried Grandma a year ago today.

Last December, the doorbell was ringing often.  Grandma lay near the end of her life, quiet, unresponsive and calm.  Hospice workers came in the front door along with gusts of snow and wind, coming to comfort us and Grandma, answering our questions and reminding us that death is not an emergency.

It seems so long ago that she was at the piano playing a myriad of tunes, many learned half-a -century earlier and still played by memory, even though she didn’t know my name or the fact that I was her daughter.  How I loved laying on the couch listening and simply being her audience of one.

The delicate sweet whistling we had listened to for years is gone, yet still strong and alive in my memory, show tunes, hymns, children’s songs…

Every time I set the table now, which used to be Grandma’s job, I see her in my mind as she painstakingly counted and sometimes recounted the four knives, four spoons, forks, napkins and plates.  She did her job well even when it was difficult, always wanting to do her part, willing to help just as a little child trying to please her mother.

I think about the heritage Grandma has left behind.  There are many memories of kindness, the giving of herself, of faithfulness and always remembering others. She never forgot a birthday or anniversary – until her mind started dimming.  She was continually giving value to the important days in others’ lives.

There were no decorations in the house last year because celebrating Christmas when Grandma was dying just didn’t seem right.  This year I decorated simply, finding some of her artwork from decades ago.

A group of us went with Grandpa to her gravesite today, remembering, mourning and then celebrating the many years of giving and living that those remembrances provide.

It would be easy to look at the gravestone and think she is gone from this life.  And in a way it’s true.  Yet it is important to look through her life, see all that Grandma has given to us, passed on to us – her children and grandchildren.  The gifts she has given are immense.  Yes, she has failed in many ways, just as we all have.  But she lived a life of gentleness, generosity, musicality and compassion, trusting in Jesus to safely bring her home.

Grandma, as well as all of us, live in a Story – a Story that started thousands of years ago, a Story that countless generations have passed through.  We are all a part of that Story – beginning from the garden in Eden to the great coming again of Jesus Christ.

We are not, as many people believe, simply repeating endlessly the cycle of birth and death, heading nowhere.  We have a heavenly home toward which we are hiking by faith, a path which millions of other pilgrims like ourselves have walked, giving us strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow.

I sometimes think it would be good for us, at times, to ponder our lives and wonder about our own eulogy –  what others will speak about us someday.  Will our life be remembered for our generous giving, for our kind words – or as a life full of complaining, bitterness and accumulating?

Grandma has been in heaven now for over a year.  I can only imagine what she has seen and experienced in that time, but I do know that it must be beyond my wildest dreams.

Let’s face it, our life here on earth is hard; it’s a battle against evil every day of our lives.  But if we look at the little blip of time we are here compared to the eons we will spend in eternity, it is only a quick moment, a blink of an eye.

Give thanks for those who have gone before us, yet keep your eyes on the glorious future that awaits you.

Love, Mom