Homecoming, 100 years in the making

Worrying about my fake tooth falling out (I recently had the dentist begin work Wednesday on a tooth, which ironically I originally knocked out at my grandma’s house when I was about 8 ), plus two drives up to my hometown 5 hours away, 4 kids with colds/allergies, a lab visit for one kiddo, and ending with a funeral for one of my favorite people has been my week in summary. Sounds positive right?

I’m so grateful I got to see my 100 year old grandma one more time before she left for heaven.

I’d suppose that the Lord had finally finished her heavenly home. It must be a sight to behold. He talks of a mansion but I think He knows her better than that. She never spoke of anything too fancy, not around me anyway. I hope her new kitchen table still has a colorful plastic tablecloth and an old tin full of stale lemon cookies inside waiting to be opened and shared. That way when I get there too, we can sit and catch up on everything, like we did down here. I don’t think she’ll be comfortable without a tattered rocking chair either so I hope He’s found an imperfectly perfect one just for her. Copious shades of brown please.

I loved hearing who my grandma was to everyone in our family at her service and gathering. She undoubtedly had a special bond with each of us. But I’d like to share just a smidgen of who she was to me.

Our relationship started of course when I was so little getting to spend the night with her. Those were my absolute favorite times. We wouldn’t stay up too late but man would we get up early to catch the local yard sales. She’d drag me out with her best friend Janie, usually & I learned how to haggle and hang with the 80 year old crowd like no other 10 year old. I knew if I wanted to come home with a new-to-me treasure that I better get my negotiating hat on.

As the years went by our time together changed and sounded different. I got married... had a kid or 4, and our conversations would become some of the best moments of my life.

She always had a story to tell. She had experienced some heartache as you can only imagine from someone who had lived that long. And, although neither of us wanted to wallow or “bellyache” as she called it, we did have a unique bond and we just “got” each other.

Every time I’d come for a visit and we had plenty of time to talk, it would always end with, “I’m so glad we talked. I just don’t have conversations like this with anyone else.”

Now, don’t think I’m a fool. She did indeed have amazing conversations with EVERYONE else... but that’s what a good grandma does.

Makes you feel special. And I did. I felt special when I walked in and even more so when she hugged me ever so tightly as I walked out. She gave the best hugs. The kind where her arms wrapped you & one hand was almost always placed thoughtfully on your cheek.

We often ended our conversations with a talk about the Lord or a prayer. She LOVED it when I’d pray over her and heaven help but we’d get downright tickled, and she’d say... “OOOOOHHHH Dawn Rachelle!!!

I felt the pure Holy Ghost!!! Look at these goosebumps.”

You can ask any good Pentecostal... if you don’t have goosebumps, you can just about forget it.

Before our last visit, just last Friday... she asked me to pray over her. And I did. And sure enough I felt the Holy Spirit. I knew this was likely my last visit with her. I didn’t deserve one last amazing conversation with her but only a short couple of days later she would indeed be gone from her earthly home. She told me twice before I left to, “Live life to the fullest.”

It’s just like her to wait until I got all the way back home just to have me turn right back around for the service. She was the kind of grandma that called you 15 times after you had just left her house for something “she forgot to tell you.”

Driving back home this time felt empty and hollow. The tears came suddenly and yet sporadically as I thought about our conversations, our hugs, our many phone calls & cards, and little adventures over the entirety of my 42 years. And dang... my tooth still hurt from the torturous dentist appointment just the day before. Another uncanny reminder of my time spent with her.

100 years seems like a whole long time until it’s just...over. You know in your heart it’s coming but oddly enough you can’t ever really prepare yourself.

But tonight after I had spent an entire day biting my lips to keep them from quivering and pinching the bridge of my nose thinking it might stop the dripping and hugging my kids fiercely while I let them cry out their feelings... I looked up after a very long dreary day to see this.

I’d like to think that she had something to do with it. The day might’ve begun a bit somber but the Lord knows my heart. I love looking to the sky. I love rainbows and the 10 year old little girl inside me that just wanted to spend the night with grandma one more night... felt such a peace knowing she was with her Savior... and likely bossing Him to give her granddaughter an unnecessary sign of all the things I already knew.