about Granny

My grandmother died today. She was 102 years old. She wasn’t eating very much these last few months and she wouldn’t take her medication, and once around Christmas, when the caretakers came in to get her dressed and give her pills, she tried to bite them. For some time now she had a hard time remembering her family, and her quality of life was waning terribly, especially on those who cared for her. Apparently she died of old age, can you believe that? I think she was ready to be called up yonder, and made a choice to go. Good for you Granny!

Her death today got me thinking about her life. 102 years of life. That’s almost biblical.

She was … that’s sad to write. She was a beautiful and distant old woman to me. She is my adopted grandmother because my dad was courageous and loving enough to adopt me as he fell in love with my mother and married her. I know my grandmother loved me, and there was always this distinct southern air that I wasn’t blood. From elementary school through High School, she was the person who consistently spoke about her faith and about God and Jesus. Every time she would come over to our house she would sit down at the piano and play at least 500 times, “Take my cup Lord, fill it up, and make me whole.” Every one in my family, when we hear that old familiar tune, are taken back to our living room, watching an old woman with emotion and passion pounding out that tune; all of us blushing with embarrassment at her faith and reckless regard for decency and orderly worship on the appropriate day of the week. She could worship anytime, anywhere, and we can recite every verse to that song.

She gave me a bible my freshman year in high school, with tears in her eyes, and a longing that I would be baptized in her lifetime … baptized the Baptist way, full immersion. I was baptized a Methodist, and sprinkled with water as an infant. She just didn’t think that was right, and I am sure she wasn’t confident that I would end up in Glory. So, she longed for the day when I would give my heart to Christ and come to the cleansing water of the Lord’s love for me, and get dunked.

She had a toy poodle named Ginger while we were growing up. After her beloved husband died, that little dog became her best ever friend. One night, after one of our weekly dinners, I was asked to drive Granny home. She had just had her brakes fixed, and I didn’t know it. So, with Ginger in her lap, and her crock pot of beans between her feet (they were always so salty), I pressed a little too hard on the brakes and Ginger ended up in the beans. Granny was pretty upset, I got the giggles, and she prayed hard for my soul.

One summer, when I was trying desperately to be the next Jimmy Buffet in college, she bravely came to my first gig at a bar. She was dressed like she was going to church, and disconcertingly proud amidst a room full of sinners. After the first two songs, she slowly slipped into a mess of embarrassment as I made a fool of myself and was asked to leave the bar forever. She never said a word against me.

She was a distant woman to me and we rarely spoke. Her townhome was adorned with gaudy gold cherubs, and hundreds of pieces of china she had painted with pictures of fruit. I am told she made a huge impact as a bible teacher and church pianist and vocalist. I am happy for the people she touched. They are happy-sad today. Every Christmas card or birthday card she had a penchant for underlining words that were important for us to hear. It was funny and strange for me to read cards with underlined words. It made me feel like she was pinching my cheek from far away. She wrote in a bible she purchased for me on my birthday, with beautiful penmanship:

"January 19, ‘78

To Tommy, my beloved grandson, who is rapidly growing into such a fine young gentleman. If you study this Book, and obey it’s Author, your life will be beautiful and a blessing indeed-
You are so dear to me, Tom, and I pray for you daily.
With deep affection,
Your Grandmother Helen
These verses have shaped and influenced my own life more than any others since I
became a Christian when I was twelve years old. Read them and believe them!"

Rom. 8:28, Math 6:33, Phil 4:19, Psa 34:7, Psalm 91:11, Psalm 37:4

May her teaching and encouragement be a blessing to you. As a Presbyterian pastor it appears providential that I am a preacher and a teacher given what she wrote and how she cared enough to pray for me every day. She knew something I couldn't see. When you get a chance, let your grand children know they are beloved, and pray for them. It feels good even after all these years.

Thanks Granny. May the Christ you love carry you home. Hope the music is a delight, and even though I’m not going to get dunked, I’ll see you later.

Thinking of you,

Tom