Two weeks have now passed since my granny peacefully left her life here on earth and was welcomed home to heaven. Many times since then I’ve laid awake in the middle of the night, reflecting on all the memories of her and who she was and the legacy she leaves. So tonight (actually, this morning) I’m putting some down in writing.
Something I’ve always known is how special Granny always made me feel. I share her middle name and have memories from an early age of discussing that common ground with her. I’ll admit that as a child, I wasn’t always thrilled with my middle name, thinking it wasn’t as pretty or feminine as that of my sisters or friends. (Granny told me once about all the mail she’d received over the years with Louise misspelled as Louis). But when I asked my mom why she picked it and she explained that it was Grandma Margie’s middle name, it became a source of pride.
Another example of Granny’s gift for making me feel special was through mail she sent. Year after year, birthday cards showed up, not just for me but for Evan and the boys too. I cherish her thoughtfulness on each birthday, but some of my favorite mailings were those that came “just because.” When I moved into a new house, she would send me Bed, Bed and Beyond coupons in case there were any items I needed to purchase, “even if it’s just a toilet paper holder.” In recent years, she mailed me a card with a poem clipped out of the paper titled “Heaven’s Very Special Child.” She thought of me and Gage when she read it and took the time to send it to me, along with the sweetest note. I can’t fully express how much it meant to me then and still does now. Just like she loved all of her great grandkids, Granny loved Gage so perfectly, with so much pride and joy. I somehow knew, even without her saying it, she saw our struggles and understood the hard that comes with it, but she never once made me feel pitied, she was only encouraging.
I’ve always known how special granny made me feel, but she was so good at it, I’m just now understanding that’s how she was with everyone. Near the end of her life and in the weeks since, so many examples have come up of the amazing way she loved—like her honest opinion, yet kind words about my cousin’s tattoo in a Facebook comment. Granny was never one to hide her true feelings, but she saw and accepted people just as they are. She did it with grace and kindness in a way unique to her. But now that I think about it, she was a living example of how Jesus loves. How lucky am I to experience that first hand?
A few years ago during a visit to Granny’s house, she had clean sheets that hadn’t yet been put back on the bed and asked for my help. She told me precisely how to place, fold and tuck each one, just the way she liked them. I’ve always admired people who know what they like and what they don’t and can articulate it. Our work together making her bed ended with one of her amazing hugs. Even in that moment, standing in her bedroom wrapped up in her arms, I knew I would always cherish that memory made with her.
It struck me recently how hard it must have been for Granny to not be able to express what she likes and what she doesn’t while she’s spent the last year in a nursing home. In early 2020, a stroke robbed much of her ability to communicate. I know it was equally frustrating for her kids trying to navigate her care, and especially tough having to be physically separated from her for a good portion of the last year. Her nine kids quite literally rallied around her, even with a pane of glass between them.
This family rallying together is nothing new though. It was a beautiful thing to witness as Granny bravely battled breast cancer over the last several years. Her kids and their spouses truly shared the load to support her, taking turns driving her to out-of-town appointments on a frequent basis, often followed by a trip to Target and sometimes even a stop at Coldstone to celebrate a final chemo or radiation treatment with ice cream! In the same way, Granny’s nine kids have been rallying around her and supporting her since she lost her husband, my Grandpa Frankie, to his own battle with cancer over 20 years ago.
That kind of love and support doesn’t just happen. Granny’s kids were following her example and that’s how I know her love and her legacy will live on and on.