My grandma was the homecoming queen her senior year of high school. It is not surprising when you look at old pictures of her with her big, brown eyes, oval face, and curling chocolate locks. Still, as beautiful as she was, her kindness was probably the thing that won her the vote. You’ve heard the expression “they have a heart of gold”? Well, I think my grandma’s heart was made of warm, woolen blankets, ever expanding to fit everyone who happened by her. She was always serving, always looking for ways to cheer people up.
Grandma had five children, but mothered so many more. There were foster children and grandchildren, nieces and nephews, neighbors, friends, and many others who felt the love and protection of her home and her care. Her youngest son had many friends who each adopted her as their own mother, and so the call of “Mom, Mom!” reverberated through the house for many years, as she rushed around to meet all of their needs.
Grandma was the healer of bruised knees and broken hearts. She wiped noses and tears and babies’ bottoms. She gave hugs and kisses and special sugary treats. She had hundreds of mouth-watering recipes that people would come from miles to taste, but my favorite was her toast. What can I say, the woman knew how to make some good toast!
When I first started college I was without a washer or dryer, so I lugged my laundry over to Grandma’s once every couple of weeks. Those were my favorite days. I would spend hours talking and listening to Grandpa’s stories. And at the end, no thanks to any work of my own, I would go home with a basket full of clean, folded laundry and a belly full of yummy food.
My grandma died last week. Thursday, just before midnight. We all gathered around her in her last moments. There was not a person in this world with any ill feeling toward that dear, sweet woman. Every eye was teary. Every person willed her to stay, stay a little longer. But it was time for her to go.
And yet, sad as I was—heart-breaking as it was to see her take her last breaths—I also was glad. I was glad to have known such a wonderful, kind, strong, determined, talented, caring, peaceful, gentle, beautiful woman. Her life was not an easy one; she had a number of health problems that plagued her for several years. Yet, she strived to make life brighter for everyone around her.
Montaigne once wrote, “If I can, I shall keep my death from saying anything that my life has not already said.”
My grandma has fulfilled this, and I hope that I can do it as well. I hope that when I leave this world, I will do so without leaving any ill feeling or unhappiness in any person’s heart. I hope I leave a legacy for my children and grandchildren to follow and for others to endeavor to become. Isn’t this what all of us should strive for?
Life is hard. It is full of ruts and puddles and broken wheels. Sometimes we think that we cannot drive on. But when we face those challenges, we must remember those who have gone before us. They made it. We can too. And we can be that example, that strong friend, that mother, that grandfather, that model of goodness for the ones who attempt the road after us.
Live every day such that death has nothing to say that your life has not already shouted, heralded, sung from the top of the hills for all to enjoy.