My Instead: My mother and I visited my grandmother's grave on the
80th anniversary of her death.
My sister-in-law Pam invited me to her Thanksgiving dinner with
her family. I’m usually somewhat single every year, so this is her wonderful
gesture to assure me that I am never alone. Thank you, Pam. This year I took
her up on her offer. My mother is always invited, as well, so I invited her to
hitch a ride with me.
This Thanksgiving Day was a special one for my mom. Her mother Amelia,
whom she lost to tuberculosis when she was only 6-years-old, died eighty years
ago today. I know…not much for which to be thankful, right? Eighty years ago,
this young 26-year-old woman was taken from this life, her husband and her two
small children to begin her eternal life embraced in the love and mercy of our
Creator.
Mom mentioned to me the night before that she was going to visit her
mother’s grave before going to Bruce and Pam’s house. I knew that I would be there by her side. As we
pulled into the cemetery and then to the circle drive near
my grandmother’s plot, I expressed to Mom how I remembered going there so often as a child. It was comforting to revisit that memory.
We cleared the snow and ice from the stone and the poinsettias as
best we could. And there we stood. With sadness in her
sigh, Mom whispered that her mother’s been gone a lifetime. I had already
thought of that and of all the things a lifetime holds and all that my grandmother missed: seeing her
kids grow up, the blessing of grandchildren, the joy of work and play, of
family and friends. And we missed HER! We missed out on having this woman in
our lives that sang while working at her sewing machine, that appreciated us
for who we are, that put love into all she did…that never wanted to leave her
life at 26.
Afterwards, I suggested to Mom that we take a “selfie” with
Grandma. Mom said that she didn’t want to hear about this going on Facebook. I
assured her that it would not. I reminded her of ALL the photos her mother had
not been in and that I believed Grandma would have wanted us to do this. Mom
agreed.
On our way back home that evening, Mom and I talked about our Thanksgiving and how
thankful she was that I shared it with her. She told me that last year she
cried all the way home from Bruce and Pam’s, missing my dad. I was happy that I
went with her “instead” of going crazy with my own preparations for my
Thanksgiving the next day. I shared a gentle reminder with Mom: how blessed we
both are to get to live our lifetime, to see our kids grow up, to know the
blessing of grandchildren, to work and to play, and to enjoy family and
friends.
Thank you, Grandma...
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