Beyond a Shadow of A Doubt

Growing up, you just know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Grandmas don't ever think bad thoughts, they are never tempted, and that they are perpetually cheerful. Grandmas wear their hair up in buns and their teeth can be put in a cup to soak at night. Grandmas make oatmeal, wear sensible shoes and never wear anything but a dress or a blouse with a skirt. Gardening comes naturally to grandmas and petunias tend to flourish on the front porch. And don't all grandmas do aerobic exercise to Christian praise music? And I think a "grandma prerequisite" is to have store bought duplex cookies that often find their way into barrel-shaped cookie jars. And somehow, this cookie jar can't ever be snuck into without her hearing.

At least, that's how it always was with my Grandma. Or so I thought.

Sometime ago,  I had the privilege and joy of being able to  help my aunts with caring for some of Grandma's needs; things to make her life a little easier and to allow her be at home for as long as she was able to. Now, I am not one to just stop in and visit. I find the conversation somehow awkward and I tend to avoid it altogether. But to pop in and help her get dressed, comb her hair, make some coffee and a "Grandma Special" (One scrambled egg with buttered/horse-radished toast, 3 slices of bacon, cranberry juice and coffee with 2 or 3 cookies)? That, I could do. And somehow, conversation was easy.

As I combed her very silvery white hair that has this one section that always tangled, we discussed my children and then we discussed her children as youngsters and the tangles they might have gotten into. I gained wisdom about discipline and that yes, my dad is indeed a little ornery.

As I cooked breakfast, we talked about my career as a nurse and she never discouraged me, but believed in me. We talked about old dishes, childhood memories (both hers and mine), shiny green dresses, cows, farming, and husbands.

As she ate breakfast and I wrote in the "communication notebook", she listened as I shared frustrations, joys, fears, and hopes. We shared life, a lot of life. I appreciate how she always listened to me, let me unload whatever I was carrying, and just listened. Then she would talk, and I'd listen, and I didn't care if I'd already heard the same story before because I loved hearing her tell it.

I learned that my grandma, who I'd always imagined and saw as calm and serene with a hymn playing in her head all the time, was actually quite spunky and vivacious (and yes, she probably did have a hymn playing in her head, or maybe a Lawrence Welk Polka tune)! I was starting to see that she had  had a lifetime of learning to tame her tongue, work on her attitude, and extend a lot of grace! This petite woman had some snap, crackle and pop and I began to see how much alike we were. Oh, I had a lot to learn from her about all of the fruits of the Spirit. She had learned how to cultivate love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. I knew she was a good gardener, but I had no idea!

Looking back, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that Grandma was every bit as human as anyone. She struggled with life sometimes, but she also learned to lean on her God who sustained her. That is what I learned from her. I also learned that it is very okay to have some "snap, crackle and pop" but I also need to not to let it take over my every emotion but instead, to work on harvesting the fruit.

Looking ahead, I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I will see Grandma in Heaven when I
get there too. She slipped over to the other side yesterday afternoon. One more breath on this side and then she was in eternity. Just like that. It was what she had waited for her whole life and I am sure the Homecoming was sweet.

Grandma, when I'd leave the house, I'd say, "See ya later; I'll lock the door on my way out." This time though I'll leave with just this, "I'll see you and Grandpa later. Thank you for showing me the way."

Love,
Dianne