What does it mean? – Guest post

I never really got to know my great grandmother on my mom’s side before she passed away. She was already in her mid-eighties when I was born and lived in a small farm town in Michigan.

She sent me, and all her great grandchildren, a handwritten letter each year. Her handwriting was small, and shaky, and usually my mom had to read the two pages of her memories and life lessons to me. I was too young to appreciate them at the time, but every now and then I’ll bring them out now. One of my favorites was the last letter I received from her the year she died.

I was in junior high and she was in her early nineties and it was the 90’s:

“I saw two men holding hands. Love knows no boundaries these days. If only father (meaning my great grandfather) could see this! I wonder what he would say? I think about that a lot. He’s been gone almost thirty years now. I wonder what we would say to each other now. Us just sitting on our porch, talking. I think he would agree at least they found each other, even being two men, and hope they enjoy the conversations with each other as much as father and I did. I miss those porch talks more than anything.”

I remember after my mom reading that to me when I was maybe 11 or 12, and tears filling my eyes and not knowing why.

She still lived in the home on the farm in Michigan that my great grandpa built till the day she died.

Literally.

The day she died she called each of her five children in the morning. She told them to come over for some lunch and there were a few more things she wanted to give them.

My great grandma had been slowly mailing all her belongings to family members probably since before I was born.

My grandma lived about an hour away and had already made plans for the day so she told her she’d see her for lunch tomorrow.

“No you won’t”, my great grandma responded. “God is calling and I’m going to see your father. I’m going to die today. I would like to spend my last few hours with you and your brothers and sisters. I’ll see you at noon.”

Once my grandma’s concerns of an elderly suicide were put to rest, she picked up her sister, picked up a few groceries, and headed over to the old farm house they grew up in. My great grandma wasn’t in failing health- well, I mean as non failing as one can be at ninety something. They spent the afternoon around my great grandma in her room, reminiscing of the life they all shared. Around dinner time my great grandma said it was time for her to go, God was ready and so was she.

Her children all gathered a little closer and laid a hand on her as her breathing slowed and her eye lids began to close.

“Your father is here. We’ll be waiting, together, to bring you to the Lord. And He is magnificent,” She slowly said in between the deep breaths raising her chest. She squeezed my grandma’s hand and then was gone, as if she had fallen asleep.

I don’t know what any of this means, if it means anything to anyone other than my family. But I know for me it means that when I’m ninety, I hope I enjoyed talking and spending time with my husband as much as she did. And I want my boys, in their seventies, holding my hand as my husband waits on the other side to introduce me to God.

Melissa is an amazing writer who posts about marriage, parenting, politics, weight loss, nicotine addiction…….  there is no end to the list of subjects.  You never know what she’s got going on any given day, but you can rest assured there will most likely be a giggle in there somewhere.