Soul Gone Home

The only thing promised in life is death. Last week my grandmother turned 72 and yesterday she died.

I thank God for those 72 years and for the memories that I will forever have of her and her particular ways. I believe that is one of the things that I will remember most about the beautiful woman that she was, that she had always been very particular. The last time I saw her alive back in December I remember I chuckled because she was in her gentle manner giving orders about how she wanted something to be done – her way. I laughed because that is how she always has been. She was a very neat woman. Her home, her hair, her clothes, her food, everything that she placed her fingers into she found it her duty to mold it in a particular form. That day in December I was instructed by her how to put the moisturizer on her hands and arms. Even that had to be done in a particular way.

She loved her grandchildren and she showed that love to us in her own particular way. Her grandchildren loved her.

As a child we did not always have the strongest of relationships. But just last week I noted to my mother how I was so delighted that God had turned that around. As I grew older and matured, so did she and our relationship and understanding of each other blossomed. I had a great respect for her.

I wonder if when her spirit got to heaven was it greeted by the spirits of my aunt and uncle with the same excitement they had when they were little children and she would come home.

I marveled at how she had done it. She was a woman who bore and raised four children and buried two of them. Yet, she kept going. Love had not always loved her. Her children had not always treated her right. Yet, she kept going.

Now that her soul has gone home I pray that it is in a state of everlasting peace. No more crying there.