I had today’s post all planned out. Today there is a march on Washington and smaller protests being held all around the country. It represents something I am passionate about and would certainly enjoy giving my opinion on. But, this morning I received a phone call that completely changed what I was feeling. I realized how little it matters in the long run.
Last night, my paternal grandmother passed away. This isn’t a shock. She was a widow in her mid-nineties. I remember the heartbreak when my other grandma died suddenly several years ago. I remember bawling in my car when I realized that my grandpa was terminally ill a few years after that. I felt strongly the presence of these guardian angels when I mourned alone for my father-in-law last year. (My husband had flown to Utah to see his dad for the last time in this life.) Today, there is a bitter-sweet peace at the loss of my last grandma.
Two years ago, she indicated to me that she was ready to go home. I think I know what she meant by that. Grandma wasn’t rich or famous. She didn’t have an important career. She won’t be spoken of by politicians or civic leaders. Her old things won’t sell at auction for millions of dollars and there won’t be shrines set up to her by complete strangers. But she was one of the most amazing people I have ever met. Her funeral will be filled with people who have been touched by her service and love. And, on a day like today, when everyone is looking to change the world, she is the greatest possible example of how to really accomplish that.
You see, Grandma worked hard for her family. She dedicated herself to that which was most important. She fed the hungry, clothed the naked, and visited the sick. She always thought of others before herself. She lived within her means and even supported those around her who needed help, despite the fact that she never had the things most people today think they can’t live without.
When I was young, I didn’t even think of her as a normal person. She was constantly serving everyone around her, so it was difficult, as a child, for me to consider that she had desires and dreams of her own. She always wanted to talk and hear about me. She came to every school event I had and always brought me a dollar. It seemed like her purpose was to make other people happy.
As I grew older, I started asking her more questions about who this woman was. She told me about how she met my grandpa and it wasn’t that different from the things I was going through as a young woman. I started to wonder how she could be so selfless when attention and praise meant so much to me. I was perplexed by the story of a young bride sending her husband on a mission. I began to wonder about the heartbreak that must have accompanied loosing her baby daughter. I was amazed that her focus was service and not bitterness; she had been through so much. The more I learned about my grandma, the more I longed to be the kind of person she was.
So what did she mean when she said she was ready to go home? She meant that she had no regrets. She meant that she had accomplished in her life a kind of success that eludes most of us. She had raised a beautiful family and taught her children the principles of charity through example. She was ready to be welcomed back into the arms of her husband and she was ready to stand before her Savior. I hope that someday I will be the kind of person who anticipates going home because I know I have lived the kind of life my grandma exemplified. If there were more people like her…well, I am not a good enough writer to begin to describe how the world would be improved.
I love you, Grandma. I am certain you are continuing your work, but this world is a little darker without you.
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