Dwelling In The House

"...surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever." Psalm 23

We said good-bye to Grandmother yesterday.

It was really, by no means, a sad good-bye. The family is grieving, yes, as we all do during times of personal loss of a loved one. But Grandmother was 97 years old and had long been ready to go see Jesus and her long lost loved ones that had gone on before -- most of them several decades before. It was her time.

It was the first real touch of death of a loved one for Coby and Melody, and it was tough. I remember growing up -- I was probably about Melody's age actually -- when my great-grandfather died. I don't ever remember seeing him alive, but I will forever remember the thoughts I had when I saw him at the funeral home. It was surreal. But a few months later my grandfather passed away, and that really hit me hard, even at the tender age of nine or so.

Grandmother passed away peacefully last Wednesday night, in the nursing home where she'd lived the last few years. Up until about a month or so ago, you'd never have known she was three years shy of a clean 100. Actually, about 2 1/2. She was as strong and active as I'd ever seen from someone of that age, but the last couple of weeks her tired body just gave out. She was struggling the last couple of days of her life, and we were all dreading a long-drawn out, suffering type of passing, but when the end came, she simply relaxed and went on to heaven.

We fully believe Grandmother never knew she was gone. She was immediately taken up to heaven and greeted first by Jesus. That's what the Bible promises us, for people who are His children. And Grandmother was definitely that. She was as sweet as you could ever imagine, and she loved being who she was -- that is, a mother and grandmother.

Jeannie was very close to her, as were all her grandchildren. To others outside the family, she was Eugenia -- the country girl who was raised in a different time, a different era. As the pastor said at the funeral, life was different back then, and Eugenia came through that period and was now living in a world that, really, has changed so much it's hard to understand.

But to the family, particularly my wife and kids, she was simply Grandmother. All my blood grandparents passed away several years ago, but I was perhaps closest to my Mamaw, my dad's mother. When she passed, no matter that she was in her late 80s and had been stricken with Alzheimer's for years, which basically took the person we knew and loved for so long away from us, it hurt. There was the feeling of near-relief, but I knew that she was in a better place, a place she'd longed for for years.

Grandmother had become "Grandmother" to me as well. She treated me just like anyone else and was as good to me as gold. I will miss her personally, and not just because she cooked the greatest fish or hot-water cornbread or pot of turnip greens you'll ever taste. I'll miss her because she made sure I never wore a hat at the dinner table. I'll miss her because she always said what she thought, at any moment, and said it with conviction -- but never seemed to hurt anyone's feelings by doing it. I'll miss her because my wife loved her with every bit of her being, and now Jeannie's hurting and has to overcome the loss. I'll miss her because of who she was.

Grandmother is living forever, though. She will live in our hearts forever here on earth, but she will live forever in the House of the Lord. And somewhere up there, although it's been less than a week but seems like an eternity, she's already cooking deep-fried cornbread and turnip greens, and drinking a Pepsi.

Dwelling in the House.