Today we buried my grandmother, "Grandmommie." She was 87 years old and survived by 4 children, 8 grandchildren, and 8 great-grandchildren. The questions I keep getting asked is, "Was she sick?" and the answer was no she wasn't. I'm not sure what's easier to handle, dying quickly, watching her suffer with illness, or watching, as we did, her slowly give up on life when Papa died.
So I choose to focus on the good times with Grandmommie, to remember through the cloudy veil of childhood memories. To remember a woman who...
...was so proud to be the first Strawberry Queen of Portland which was all she could remember to tell me when I came to visit her at the nursing home.
...wiped my forehead off when I passed out from heat exhaustion working in the field, and made sure I never had to go back out in the fields again after.
...always made sure to send tomatoes home with Dad because she knew I loved them so much.
... with quite determination survived many a childhood illness, cancer, open heart surgery and so much more.
...instilled in all her children, who then passed it down to their children, the importance of a college education.
...knew the value of a dollar to the extreme.
...hated animals with a passion, even though she was a farmer's wife.
...was the rock we all depended on when our parents couldn't help.
...was the Grandmommie we always took for granted because she was always right across the street.
At the service they played the hymn, "His eye is on the sparrow,"
I sing because I’m happy,
I sing because I’m free,
For His eye is on the sparrow,
And I know He watches me.
She's singing now, a song of freedom.
Extortion by Any Other Name Part 2
15 years ago
