This it the eulogy I wrote for Grandma - I read it at her funeral:
A group of us were at Copeland Oaks with Grandma, wandering around the pond, and a woman passing by told me "your Grandma is such a sweet little old lady."
My first thought was an incredulous "Really?!?"
I looked over at the scene the woman saw: Aunt Sharon bent over talking to Grandma who sat on her red scooter. It did seem very sweet, serene - unless you noticed the stubborn set to Grandma's chin, the way it was jutting out slightly. Aunt Sharon was telling her something she didn't agree with and wasn't about to do. Sweet little old lady my foot, I thought. Try offering her a rocking chair to sit in, go on, I'll stand back. The family tried that at her 80th birthday party. She was only moderately polite with her refusal. She was just as irritated about it at her 90th birthday party - mostly because this time with her heart problems she actually had to sit in it - she was more frustrated with her own weak body than with us for offering it.
My brother visited Grandma shortly after she got her red scooter. They went into the hall to go to dinner. "Look at this," she said. She opened the throttle and sped off down the hall. When Chris caught up with her at the elevator she laughed and said proudly "Gee-o, it really picks up speed doesn't it?" That's my Grandma.
And that was probably what Aunt Sharon was scolding her about that day. Earlier she'd almost run over a man in the hall who was going too slow for her. Her doctors' biggest complaint was they couldn't get her to slow down enough to heal. She wasn't about to have people waiting on her hand and foot when she felt she was perfectly capable of doing things herself.
Now, I picture sweet little old ladies sitting on their flowered settees waiting for someone to solve their problems. That wasn't Grandma at all. For Grandma, difficulties were challenges to be faced and you faced them with God at your side and your family at your back. And if family was the difficulty she didn't hesitate to let them know it. Grandma wasn't the type of Christian who said "God will provide," and sat back to wait for that to happen. She felt that God had already provided and if you were too lazy or blind to harvest what he'd given and make it work for you she didn't have much patience. She used her generosity, her love and kindness for the people who truly were in trouble, who truly needed a hand up, rather than those who just didn't appreciate what they had.
And gee-o was she stubborn. Grandma was a woman who knew what she wanted, and knew what needed done - and there was no changing her mind or turning her back. That stubbornness and tenacity got her through the hardships of her youth and losing her mother, through the joys and frustrations of being a wife and mother and especially through the trials of age as her body began to fail her and her mind stayed as sharp as ever. That tenacity helped her adjust to a new home in Copeland Oaks, that stubbornness got her walking again after a broken hip, kept her going through the many bouts of pneumonia that laid her low. Through sheer willpower and love she kept enjoying life even as her body became frailer, her world smaller.
But more than stubbornness, more than tenacity, Grandma had a certain quality that defined her, more than any other. She had that quality called grace. Through the years, through all her hardships she had a beauty and courageousness that she never lost, not even in the worst of times. These past few years her world became more and more constricted - but she never lost that grace. She kept her cheerfulness and optimism even in the most trying illnesses. Though she was hurting and weary and sick - she never turned that pain on her caretakers, she never became bitter or angry. Indeed, she accepted her failing health, in a way, with better grace than those of us who watched her decline. While we were looking for more ways to fix her, she was looking ahead, preparing herself for the next journey of her life with the same optimism she lived this one.
I learned a lot from Grandma, growing up. I learned to be stubborn in doing what's right, tenacious in following my dreams and gracious even in difficult situations, with difficult people. I watched her these past few years and learned more, that you can be dying but still be hopeful for the future; your body can wither and sicken, but you can still remain beautiful; and every stage of life should be greeted with hope and generosity and should end with grace.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
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1 comment:
Beautiful.
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