My grandmother passed away on Friday. She had a stroke a few weeks ago that began
to shut down her body and she declined rather quickly. When a person is 93, you submit a little
easier that it was their time. Not making
their presence from this earth any less missed, but the culmination of a long
life lived and the reality that these bodies were not made to last forever,
eases this transition. And most
importantly, her Savior was waiting to greet her. The picture of that moment of longing finally
happening is so, so sweet.
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| January 2012 |
My childhood memories of her vary greatly. She lived in
Florida for most of my growing up. I
remember the anticipation of her Christmas package that would arrive. She must
have had a 10,000 square foot roll of a certain tissue paper wrapping. I still
remember that it was white with holly berries and leaves on it. We received
presents wrapped in that print for YEARS. I remember the several trips to
Florida to visit her. I remember her visits during the summertime. I remember not understanding why she didn’t
think it was proper for me to be running around barefoot. And I remember not understanding why she
would always cry when she prayed. Thankfully,
I get that now.
My grandfather died when I was only 2. I remember when she
got remarried. I was 10. And I wasn’t sure how I felt about watching elderly
people kissing. :)
I remember how when I was younger I didn’t understand why she
seemed to always have an opinion about something or felt the need to make her
thoughts known. At times, it seemed quite
critical. But I also came to admire her
strong convictions and unwavering faith. And over time, I saw an incredible
softening. My phone calls and visits in
the last 10-15 years were always extremely pleasant and left me thankful for
the time and conversation.
Several years ago, it was made known that she wondered if I
would like to have her piano, an item that she cherished. I certainly did. And we talked about it several times. But I also knew that I did not want to take
it from her too soon – before she was ready to part with it. Taking a piano out of one’s ownership is a
little different than a book being handed down.
There would be a large empty spot in her room. And I knew my grandma
would cry. And I didn’t want to be the one that did that to her.
After she had her stroke a few weeks ago and while she was
in health care, it became clear that she would likely not return to her
apartment in the retirement village. I
was encouraged by my aunt and parents to find the time to come and get the
piano. So, we hauled a trailer and drove
the 2.5 hours to get it.
When I visited her that day, one of the first things she
asked about was when I was going to come and get the piano. I told her we had
already loaded it up and I was taking it that day. Her eyes squeezed shut and
she began to shake and sob. I sat down next to her and held her hand, telling
her how thankful I was to have it and that I would enjoy it for years to come.
She calmed down eventually. We had a nice visit. It was clear that her mind was
not what it used to be. But she was entertained by our boys wrestling and
fidgeting in the small room. She even sang a little song from her childhood at
one point. She laughed and joked. She
apologized for her condition and that she couldn’t get up from her chair. She
asked about when dinner was. A lot. And
as we were getting ready to part with her, she looked at me square in the eyes and
said, “Now when are you going to come and get the piano?” So….I had to break it to her again. And again, endure her eyes squeezing shut as
she began to sob.
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| 2 weeks ago |
I’m thankful to have that final visit with her though. And I’m really thankful to have such a
treasured item from her. My dad has
asked me to play a couple of songs at her funeral on Saturday. Mind you, I have not played the piano in
front of people much (or even to myself) for years. Makes me all edgy and anxious. Playing in front of others has always done
that to me. But, I’ve been practicing on
her piano these past 3 days more than I’ve practiced in the last 15 years.
Its sobering to realize the brevity of our lives on this
earth. And most people don’t live to be
93. Thankful to have the time with her that we did. And thankful to know that she is soaking in
her heart’s greatest longing with the One that loves her the most.
