Growing up, Grandma was definitely one of the most important persons in my life. She taught through her actions how to appreciate and care for fine things, and more importantly – how to appreciate and love people.
Remembering back, I believe my favorite day of the week was Sunday. Church in the morning, then off to Grandma’s house for dinner. It was always a family affair, as all the cousins and aunts and uncles who lived within driving distance would show up. Grandma was the best cook, for a fact, in the entire world. She was also woman of elegance, setting a beautiful table, with fine china and silver, and often fresh flowers in the center. We were all special when we ate at Grandma’s table, and each Grandchild knew they were the favorite, though I knew I was the most favorite!
Grandma had a beautiful collection of tea cups bought for her by friends and family from around the world. She would let me take each delicately painted cup from her china cabinet and carefully examine the intricate painted flowers and designs. I was hooked! I’m sure it had something to do with my lifelong passion for painting.
At the early age of five, Grandma said I could pick out my favorite teacup that would become my own, after she went to heaven. After much consideration, I chose the one with the pink roses painted so beautifully. But the best part was that from then on, whenever we came to dinner at Grandma’s house, the cup was considered mine.
After dinner, when the men and boys excused themselves, and the table was cleared, she would pour some warm tea into my favorite cup, with an added good measure of sugar. The ladies would sit at the table and graciously sip from all kinds of beautiful teacups, and together share the past weeks happenings.
They would laugh together, cry together and just ‘be’ together. However, if one of us said something unkind about another lady, Grandma would respond with, “But she made the most delicious pies”, or another well placed compliment. We all knew she was politely correcting us, and we’d quickly change our tone.
Grandma was a gracious hostess, a true servant. We said she was born with a built-in spring – because she would be the first to jump from the table if she sensed anyone needed anything, even well into her eighties. Grandma would made extra casseroles and cookies and pies to freeze, so they would be ready just in case someone might stop by. And someone always did.
She was forever ready to help, to serve, to listen, and to love. Though Grandma only had 3 daughters and 11 grandchildren, the ‘adopted’ family members were countless. When my cousin, Susan, lost her Grandma, my Grandma told her, she would take Sue in as if she were her very own granddaughter. As family members moved away or died, the remaining family became Grandma’s family. And, close friends were also considered family. I talked to so many people at their funerals, many years ago, who were adopted, fed, and loved into our family – yet I had never heard of many of them.
I didn’t know that Grandma and Grandpa were not financially well off. They had three sofa beds – she called them davenports, in the ‘front room”, for the many guests that came for a visit. There were covers on the sofas – I thought to make them cozy. But they covered decades of loving wear and tear. They never owned their own home. Their curtains were ancient, and appliances were old. But I never saw her life that way, nor did I ever hear a complaint from her about her possessions. When I was a young mother myself, I remember being moved to do something to show appreciation for her many kindnesses – especially since we had just devoured the latest batch of her famous chocolate chip cookies. I thought a shiny new toaster would be just the right gift, because hers was so old. When she unwrapped the toaster, a disappointed look came over her face. She then set me straight for wasting money on something that still worked. I had to return the toaster, but learned I could bring her a bag of chocolate chips, to help with the cost of making them. And it made sense to her, because my gift would be passed on to others in the next batch of cookies. That’s how her mind worked. Her actions and words were consistent with her heart. What she knew to be right from the bible, she did. No question. You may be getting a picture in your mind of a lovely, proper straight-laced woman – and to be certain she was. But she was also hysterically funny! She almost always won the prize for the silliest costume at our family
Halloween parties. My favorite was when she came as a fisherman with giant fake bare feet, a silly nose and glasses, old worn out clothes and a bamboo pole. No matter how she tried to disguise herself, the twinkle in her eye and unmistakable laugh gave her away. At Grandpa’s funeral – he was in his 80’s, I sat behind Grandma at the funeral parlor. At one point she summoned my sister to her, whispered something in her ear, and Debbie went flying out the door. I was so afraid she was having heart problems and needed her medicine. I was praying so hard for her to be OK. Since there were 100’s and hundred’s of people who came to her after the service I couldn’t get close enough to check up on her, so I planned on doing so back at her house for the luncheon we were preparing for the guests. Grandma walked in as we ladies were somberly doing the task. I held Grandma’s arm and asked if she was OK. And she responded she was fine. I asked what she sent Debbie away for in the middle of the service. That twinkle in her eye sparkled and she said… I couldn’t remember if I had cleaned the toilet that morning so I sent Debbie home to do it! “I’m worrying my heart out for you, and in the middle of the funeral you’re worried about a toilet?” She responded – “Well I’m sure Grandpa doesn’t need it anymore, but our guests will! She cracked up laughing, and we were all in hysterics until our sides hurt. The doorbell rang and she peeked out the window to see who it was. She turned and yelled, “quick everyone act sad. The pastor’s here…” We lost it, and so did she.
As I think back about Grandma, I would say she was a beautiful combination of hugs and laughter, poise and elegance, love and grace; a woman who encompassed everything I wanted to be when I grew up.
I have adopted Phil 4:8, as my life verse, much in honor to my Grandmother’s example. It says – Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things.
Listening to this story, you might believe that we all lived a storybook life. Were we blessed? Of course. What I haven’t mentioned about those wonderful memories, is the harder side of life. You see, my Grandfather was an alcoholic who drank away much of their money.
He was gentle and kind, and wouldn’t hurt a fly – and he always had room on his lap for
a grandchild, but he also slept through most of my childhood. I never knew anything negative about my Grandfather until well into adulthood. Grandma loved him, cared for him, and honored him. It wasn’t until the last two years of his life, when he gave up drinking, that we discovered the wit and charm Grandma always knew he had.
My own childhood had many times of fear and abuse from an alcoholic and violent father. But God has been able to heal and free me from the pain. As I sought God to help me forgive him, I was reminded of the strength and unconditional love Grandma lived. When I see this precious teacup, I am holding the memory of the selfless model I too desire to become.
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