The Little Things
I’m not much of a detail oriented person. My memories are not filled with details of gatherings - who was there or even what happened unless it was a momentous or tragic occasion. I’ve always looked at, and stored to memory, the big picture.
As I look back on my memories of Grandma, all I see is gentleness and love. In looking at the big picture, I knew Grandma loved me. She loved me in little ways. She greetedme by name each and every time we visited. I was never glossed over in the crowd of grandchildren that gathered frequently at her home. She called me by name and offered some little tidbit that let me know she was keeping up with my life.
As I grew up, we had more grown-up kinds of conversations with a mutuality bound by love of grandmother and granddaughter. We talked mostly about the little things – precious little things. I observed, listened and incorporated what was good and lovely about her.
I only have a picture to recall the details of her face and gentle smile. A smile as lovely as her little garden where life stopped for sips of mint iced tea. A place where I was enveloped by love, could relax and enjoy our time together. The soft scent of roses filled the air as conversation revolved around little things.
I’ll always associate Grandma with Christmas and the gathering of family. A special time filled with love, stories and laughter. We know a few are missing and missed but the love continues on with a sense of their presence no matter where we are.
As Grandma aged and fought a courageous battle with cancer, I was honored and blessed to hold her hand during extremely painful procedures. Her hands were very soft and warm and the tears she cried fell on our hands as she endured pain that few will know. Tears I treasure to this day.
As she became weaker and knew her time was coming, I held her hand as she slipped into a state marked by mumbling and what others saw as confusion. I listened carefully as she talked to God, working out her mistakes with her Lord and Savior. She didn’t mind my presence so I sat at her bedside holding her soft, warm hand in the sterile environment that is life in the hospital basking in the love of Grandma – and her love for God as she prayed and asked forgiveness for her sins.
Certainly those were sad times as we watched this gentle, lovely soul prepare to leave us. It was such a comfort to know she was prepared and ready.
It is in these little things that the big picture tells its story. The story of love and the gentleness of her soul – and everything a grandma should be. Grandma showed me the meaning of this life. It is all about love in the little things and little ways in which we love one another so the big picture can tell the story.
She has gone on ahead to her heavenly home but we know her soul if safe – may she rest in peace and rise in glory...
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