Remembering Grammy.
It’s been two months since my Grammy went to be with Jesus. It’s still strange that she’s gone, but as I stood in church singing yesterday, I thought how delighted I know she is to be singing to Jesus while looking at His face. She has received the desire of her heart.
I was privileged to share some memories of Grammy at her celebration of life service. I’ve been waiting until I could read them without crying… but it turns out that may take longer than planned. So I’ll share them now, in the hope that they are a testimony both to her faith and to the faithfulness of her Savior.
There are so many memories of Grammy I could share. Birthdays, Christmases, hugs, songs, word games, or maybe the endless bottles of Bath and Body Works lotion (I will never run out).
But over and underneath all of it, my memories of Grammy are all tinted with this: she was faithful to remember.
She remembered in so many ways, but the most obvious was through her notes. If you’re here, you’ve probably received one. In fact, (can we make this interactive?) just go ahead and raise your hand if you’ve ever gotten a note from my Grammy.
(Edit: About 150 people raised their hands.)
I’m concerned about the future of the postal service now that she’s not buying stamps.
She faithfully remembered birthdays, anniversaries, obscure holidays, random Tuesdays—all with notes. She used any excuse to send a card. But she didn’t need an excuse. Because it wasn’t the holiday she remembered—it was you.
She knew the power of an encouraging word, and she faithfully showered them on all of us.
But it wasn’t only through her notes that she remembered, although I’m going to miss finding them peaking out of my mailbox on odd afternoons.
Grammy remembered to pray. For me, and, I can only suppose, for a fair number of you. She didn’t brag about it, but I know from casual mentions that she prayed for me and for all of her grandchildren daily. And every so often I would get a note or a text saying “Honey, I was praying for you this morning and I wanted to tell you…” whatever it was she wanted to tell me.
In the middle of the chaotic jumble of life, it was precious and peaceful to know Grammy prayed for me today. Is there a better gift than faithful prayer?
I’ll miss the notes, but I’ll miss that so much more.
Grammy taught me a lot: The best recipe for pie crust, a winning Boggle strategy, the words to The Old Rugged Cross. She taught me that an encouraging word is never out of place and always worth the stamp. And Grammy taught me that remembering to pray faithfully for others is the sweetest gift I can offer.
A couple of months ago I was talking to Grammy, and I told her how thankful I was to be part of this legacy of faith.
She said, “Don’t drop the baton.”
I won’t drop it, Grammy.