Wednesday, April 18, 2012.
It was the hardest day of my life.
The day my Grandma took her last breath.
I was holding her hand.
“Jane, mother, mom, Murry, baby sister, Miss Jane, honey & sugar".
But to me and my sister and now to our girls, she was
“grandma”.
My grandma was a good mother to three children. She was a good friend to her husband.
She was loved by her family and cherished by pa. She had the love of a good man for sixty
years.
A man that rescued her from a life of turmoil and hurt and
loved her, with his heart and his soul.
The kind of love that makes you cry.
– fully and completely.
My grandma’s life was rich in love. She was generous of her time and her
spirit. She noticed the beauty around
her. She
celebrated life. Grandma recognized something
in the world that the majority of us don’t: that life is glorious.
Despite the pain. As a young girl she suffered a major back injury. Her first back surgery was when she was 28. Grandma lived in constant pain for almost her entire life. She took morphine daily to help cope with the pain. The medicine was a necessity to life, but it masked the early signs of the cancer that would ultimately end her life.
Grandma lived a life where she noticed the arrival of a bird
near her window, encouraged the quacking of ducks, rejoiced in the beauty of a rhododendron
bloom. In my grandma’s arms was warmth and
acceptance, patience and peace and the sweet smell of estee lauder perfume and
powder.
Grandma wasn’t given the opportunity to pursue higher education. Her work was her family and
human nature.
Real
life is really all she knew.
And she was proud of each one of her birthdays, because it
was proof that she was a year wiser. And
she was right.
Grandma was always there for us. She listened.
She hugged.
She gave sound advice and counsel if it’s what we needed.
Grandma could keep a secret.
We knew we were loved.
It’s impossible to think about my childhood and time with
grandma & pa without thinking about Blue Ridge. “THE
EGGER HIDEAWAY” - A real log house nestled into the woods of the blue ridge
mountains.
Streams and ferns, apple trees, quaint little bridges,
freshly mowed rolling hills, a windmill, trails, mudpies, cane fishing poles. Mountain views and blue sky.
Whenever we would turn onto the road their house sat off of
we would roll down the windows and take in a deep, long breath of that sweet
mountain air. Turning into their
driveway was escaping into a world of peace and serenity.
The dogs would gingerly barrel out to greet us with grandma
& pa, arms open wide.
The ticking and the chiming of the clocks. Curling up on the sofa with grandma to
talk. Every evening, pa would join
us. He would hold grandma’s hand and
tell her how ‘he loved her so’ – and we all felt it.
Grandma would
sleep in the "blue room" with Lisa & me.
We’d be on a pallet on the floor.
“I love
you…a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck”
I learned the Lord’s Prayer by repeating it back, line by
line, to grandma lying on the floor in Blue Ridge.
There was always ice cream and homemade desserts. But before that we’d be served big, made-from-scratch meals in the dining room, lots of times with fresh vegetables from the
garden, after we held hands and pa said ‘grace’.
Lisa & I would take turns sitting in that special spot,
nestled in between grandma and pa, with a dog or two under our feet, waiting
from grandma to slip them a bite.
We made green eggs and ham and didn’t have the stomach to
eat it…but Ginger did. Grandma thought
pizza was weird, wouldn't we prefer bologna sandwiches(?), but she’d eat it with us. I could bang away on her piano and she
thought it sounded good. I was amazed
that she could just sit and play.
Grandma didn't need any music...she had her ears.
That mountain road was tricky come church Sunday because of her back pain.
Pa went to First Baptist in town. The sermon was broadcast
over the radio. Sometimes we’d go with
him, other times we’d stay in and listen with grandma.
We loved to hear her sing with the church hymns, strong and
beautiful .
Grandma was compassionate, sensitive and strong. She loved
animals…and they loved her…the most of all of us! My own dog preferred Grandma.
I’ll never forget the time she and pa came to visit us at
our house and a big lost dog got into our yard and hid under the shed. Grandma went right out there, got down on her
hands & knees and crawled right up to the underside of it and started
coaxing the growling dog to come out, that everything was okay. And it was.
When Grandma said everything was going to be alright you
believed her.
In my heart will always live the memory of the night she
climbed the stairs of the loft to be with me.
I was in my early twenties and I was going through a lot, I was
having a hard time.
I escaped to my grandparent’s arms and their hideaway in the
mountains. Too old to lie on a pallet on
the floor of the guest bedroom, I was up in the loft. But I was crying, and I kept waking up with bad
dreams.
And then she was there, rubbing my back, humming me a
song…soothing me back to sleep.
I was proud to introduce Adam to Grandma & Pa – proud of
him and proud of them…I’m grateful
they were able to attend our wedding, and felt there was no better passage for
Pa to read than 1 Corinthians 13.
Introducing my daughters, Charlotte & Ruby to their
great-grandparents has been two of the greatest joys in my life. Ruby (RB is Pa, his mother was "Ruby") Jane is named in honor of two of the
grandest people I know. Now that I am grown
and have children of my own, I am able to appreciate so much more the peace she
always seemed to possess in each passing moment.
She radiated joy. And
she loved to hear me talk about the girls – she would laugh when I’d recount
what the girls had been up to. Grandma
loved to talk to Charlotte & Ruby on the phone…and she thought it was sweet,
when we would visit…the way Charlotte loved to sit and rub on her arms.
Two weeks ago my mother called. With a tearful tone she told
me Grandma was sleeping a lot and Pa was having a hard time waking her up. I drove up with the girls to visit her in the
hospital. She was sick but she wanted to
go home, she wanted to be with Pa. Which
is where she remained for the rest of her days. With the devotion he has always shown for
her, he never left her side.
She held on until she knew he would be okay. I promised her that we would take care of
Pa. I promised her that we would take
care of each other. That we would love
each other the way she loved each and every one of us.
Today
my family is sad and we are hurting
…but Grandma is not.
Grandma is finally free of her suffering. And I believe that she and Roger are up in
heaven right now, holding hands, looking down on us and sending us the strength
we’re going to need to get through this.
We love you Grandma.
Our lives are forever enriched because you were a part of them.
.JPG)
