Yes, It's Another One!

My husband's grandmother, now passed on, was a wonderful example of a Christian. She was always giving, joyful and seemingly never unnerved by anything. She was all of 4'8” at the most. Her personality much larger than her size. As they say, dynamite comes in small packages. She loved passionately and what she didn't like, well, she let you know about that too, but always with style and grace. In the years I knew her, I only saw her get angry once. I used to ask her how she controlled her temper, and she always said, “Me? I've a horrible temper. I used to be a redhead you know.” Then she would chuckle and wink at me. She got me to start reading my Bible on a through the year plan by getting me angry at her one time. I think she planned that, but whatever, it was one of the best things I've ever started doing. But, the most amazing thing was, most of the time you didn't see her get angry, but you did know that she was disappointed and you had something to do with it. Can we say conviction? And, the funny thing was that it was something with you and not her. She had it right. She was never prideful or 'lording' it over you; always, always she was humble.

Grandma taught us lots of things: How to share freely, give of what we have whether it was time, money, or talents. She taught us little secrets that helped make lump less gravy. She had a wealth of knowledge. In the short time that I had the privilege of knowing her, she made me realize that I wanted to age like her. The females in my family don't tend to age too well as my husband loves to tell. I will admit it. So far, they tend to become angry and bitter. I hope that I can bypass that and become like Grandma, my husband's grandmother.

Where does the bathroom come in? Well...you have to know Grandma. Grandma had more energy than all of us combined. She loved to come and visit, spoil her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She loved to play games. She also cooked and cleaned. You could not get her to sit down and be still. She had more energy than anyone I have ever met. One time she came and wanted to help me in my garden. I told her I was happy to have someone helping me weed my garden. It was a job I hated. She taught me to love it. But, after about an hour, I was ready to drop. I kept looking at Grandma figuring, okay, she'll get tired and want to stop any minute now. Should I mention she was 90 years old at this time? So, we're weeding and right at about an hour I have to beg her, “Grandma, can we stop now, pleeeeeze?”

So back to the bathroom, Grandma had heart problems, hence my concern over her weeding and doing too much around the house. She had a stent placement. I was the only one, at the time, who could stay with her while she recuperated from the surgery. Her first day home from the hospital she wanted to get a shower. I told her okay, but I was staying right outside the door and if she needed me to call me. I did too. But after I hear her get out of the shower, I hear huffing and puffing and the shower doors rattling. I am like, oh my, she's having problems and is too proud to call me. That's Grandma. I knock on the door and ask, “Grandma, are you okay? “Yes dear, I'm fine.” is the reply. Okay, so I sit down and hear more huffing and puffing. “Grandma, what are you doing?” No answer. “Grandma?” No answer. “Grandma! Grandma, You'd better not be wiping down those doors.” Yes folks, the first, full day home from the hospital and she is in there rubbing down those shower doors. AGGGGHHHHH!!! We had a talk about that and despite my telling her it was not necessary, every day you could hear her rubbing down those doors. That's Grandma!

Grandma loved to tell us stories of what her life was like growing up. How as a young teenager she had to cook the family meals. The story of her first job and her having to walk home at night. A friend found out and gave her the means of protecting herself with a small hand pistol. One night, she tells the story of being followed by some young hooligans in a car. They pulled up beside her walking on the sidewalk and she proceeds to pull the pistol out and tells them she'll blow their heads off if they don't leave her alone. She laughed to tell the story, but she says, “in all actuality I was shaking like a leaf.” That's Grandma. Or the story when we were helping to go through things, after she had passed on, and we found, not one mind you, but two serrated butcher knives in the side pocket of her luggage. “What was Grandma doing with these?” We all laughed and was amazed airport security or somebody hadn't flagged her down. Someone else was like, “You don't mess with Grandma.” We pondered that one for days.

Grandma, thank you for sharing your wonderful wisdom with us - your love of life, friends and most of all, your love for the Lord. Your life was such a wonderful testimony of His divine love for us.