A Mighty Woman of God

My Grandma died on Tuesday. At 11:30 in the morning. The time is only significant to me, I guess. As I sit here writing this entry, I am printing her funeral bulletin. It has been quite a week, so far. Chicken (who now needs to be re-named RA-CHIGGA, way too cute when Z-man says it!) went with me to see Grandma on Monday. We sat with her for about 45 minutes, not that she really knew we were there, but it did make us feel better to see her and say our good-byes. She sat in her chair, gray-haired head tilted back, her beautiful face wrinkled and slightly distorted from the lack of teeth in her mouth. Her eyes half open, her mouth fully open, she was breathing heavily. She couldn't swallow any more, which meant she couldn't eat any more. She was dieing.

So, I kissed her head and told her I loved her...very much...and left the building she has called home for almost 10 years. We got in my van, and drove home. My Mom called me the next afternoon. I am so grateful I went to see her that one last time. And I am glad that Ra-Chigga was with me.

My Grandma was extraordinary. Her life story is full of God's grace and mercy and incredible miracles. There is so much I could say about her, but, it would be an awfully LONG entry, there wouldn't be room to contain it all. She was witty and smart and beautiful (wasn't she beautiful??) and talented...she had a beautiful soprano voice (I loved going to church with her when I was little and I could hear her sing) and she was a wonderful artist. She loved to dance...she loved life. And she loved her man, let me tell you!! And he loved her! He was her cherry and she was his poohggy. Adorable, ain't it?? He gave her a ring on this particular Christmas.

I loved her so much. When their only son was in an accident in 1968, she stood at his bedside after the doctors' came and told them he would never be anything more than a vegetable. He would never walk, talk, eat by himself; and they weren't even sure he would ever come out of the coma. There she stood...alone in her grief and made a deal with God. She told Him that if He would spare the life of her son, she would serve Him the rest of her life. God loved my grandma, too, and she kept her promise until the day she couldn't comprehend life any longer. My Uncle lived to be over 50 years old, walking, talking...and eating by himself. No, he was never the same, he needed constant care, but Grandma and Grandpa did it together.

Now, they are all in heaven, rejoicing together! She is dancing with her Cherry, and for the first time in 39 years, she sees her son as God created him. Whole and complete without blemish or that silver cane!! And her little boy she lost at birth...how incredible God is. There are no answers, no real words that comfort, but, it doesn't matter. Like I said in a comment to XOO...I am now at the age where the lack of answers just don't matter anymore (I paraphrase). I love God, and that's what I know as truth. I love my Grandma and I am eternally (literally) grateful for her prayer-warrior life.

Hug your parents, if you can...and even better...hug your Grandparents if you are blessed enough to have them in your life right now.