Day 3,363

The Grama

Ever since I can remember, I always loved the lace tablecloths my grandmother draped over her dining table. They made those special supper nights “across the mountains” even more special. Grama used to live about 4 hours away from us—across the state of Washington—and when we were kids, visiting her home on their little 

 farm was one of our most favorite adventures. The smell of her home is familiar still. Those creaky floors and her big waterbed. The trolls in the box, the goats beyond the fence, the swing in the tree, her dogs Doc and Woody, the tractor rides and slug hunts. The memories are nearly alive as I sit now, playing them over in my mind. I can watch her pulling weeds in her gardens as I hammer nails into a log beside her. I can see her opening the duck gate and letting us inside with our bin full of slugs. I can picture her next to me, sifting through treasures at antique stores and licking the ice cream cone when we were finished shopping. Fast forward a few years, I remember her at my gymnastics meets. At my side before my date picked me up for Prom. At my high school and college graduations. I remember her specifically walking toward me at the indoor track at the University of Washington just before my pole vault competition and my jaw dropping to the floor at how incredible she looked. I remember her voice and her hands and the delicate, smooth, and irresistibly softness of her skin. The way she smelled. The candle she lit. The lotion she used. I can watch her sift through her makeup bag, showing me the latest Bobbi Brown or Mac addition while “putting on” her eyebrows. I can see her tiny little frame setting the too-high-to-reach start button on her dryer with a long back scratcher. I see those hidden chocolates in your drawer too, Grama—you always let me have one. I can remember the smile stretched across her face as she showed me her newly decorated computer room complete with the artwork of her and Papa’s adventures. Her sitting under the giant umbrella sweating after harvesting the planters in her backyard. I remember picking her up when she fell in that hole at the house on the South Hill. I can watch her open her sheer window curtain, sit on her couch, and watch the light of day fill her home. Her stirring the soup in her Dutch oven. Her weekly phone calls. The excitement of her voice on every birthday. The joy as she opened her Kitchen Aid. I remember her trying to hold Amelia for the first time and Amelia absolutely wanting nothing to do with it ha! I can see her meeting Adam, at my wedding, holding each of my four babies, teaching me to cook, watching Adam play baseball. 

She’s all over my life. 

Because she’s one of my best friends. 

That little lady right there ah. My heart aches as my eyes blur with tears. That lump in my throat burns. Last night, my fiery, lovely, hilarious and stubborn, tender, gentle, dear and loyal friend passed away. With her husband and three children at her side, she was surrounded by intimate familiarity even in such a sterile setting—a blessing I’m most thankful for. 

I love you, Grama. 

I miss you already and would love nothing more than one more kiss on your dainty freckled face. One more hello and one more goodbye. One more dinner together on your beautiful lace tablecloth. I’ve learned more from you than I could even attempt thanking you for and I will never stop smiling at your memory. You are beautiful, my Nana. A treasure. A turquoise gem. My dear, sweet, best friend. 

_____________  

My children woke up to the news of their Nana getting sicker in the hospital, realizing their grandparents had left in the middle of the night, and a 9AM appointment at the passport office. It was later that night while making pumpkin pie that we were all given the news of her passing. Hugging and kissing their tear stained faces throughout the day was gut wrenching. They’re resilient though, these babes. And they have such a sweet, honest, and true perspective on life that makes facing death so much clearer. They know well that each of us will die someday and that for those who love the Lord, who have been redeemed by His blood and been made new by faith in the gospel of Christ, they have nothing to fear and Heaven to gain. We clung to that truth yesterday and prayed with them that they’d be those who would receive Christ in faith and spend the rest of their lives serving and glorifying Him in obedience and love, as that is the very purpose of life.