As you know, my grandmother "Mammie" passed away in the middle of last July. I wrote of her hands in the weeks before she passed. I thought I had done a good job of mourning her then.
Yesterday, we celebrated her life, the coin phrase for we had her funeral. I guess it is a frame of mind to have: celebrating. The minister from one of the churches Mammie attended in her lifetime, talked to us of the usual things, and there was comfort there. My sister expanded her own thoughts and talked of the legacy Mammie left behind. There was laughter, and there were tears. I am not ashamed to say that they dripped down my face as Kathy recalled my grandmother's life and influence.
There were no songs planned. You know, most folks sing "Amazing Grace" or some other soulful hymn. After the minister finished the committal, and stepped away from the graveside, one lone voice decided to sing Mammie's favorite song "Jesus Loves Me". I started it because I figured that everyone would join in, but no. Kathy looked back at me, and began to sing too, which made me cry, harder than I already was. Then, I laughed because I was embarrassed about crying. She stepped to my side, and carried the song for a moment or two, then Ruth joined us, and we finished. My sons all said that my mother was singing, and that a few others joined in. It was the moment that allowed everyone to free their tears.
Yesterday, we celebrated her life, the coin phrase for we had her funeral. I guess it is a frame of mind to have: celebrating. The minister from one of the churches Mammie attended in her lifetime, talked to us of the usual things, and there was comfort there. My sister expanded her own thoughts and talked of the legacy Mammie left behind. There was laughter, and there were tears. I am not ashamed to say that they dripped down my face as Kathy recalled my grandmother's life and influence.
There were no songs planned. You know, most folks sing "Amazing Grace" or some other soulful hymn. After the minister finished the committal, and stepped away from the graveside, one lone voice decided to sing Mammie's favorite song "Jesus Loves Me". I started it because I figured that everyone would join in, but no. Kathy looked back at me, and began to sing too, which made me cry, harder than I already was. Then, I laughed because I was embarrassed about crying. She stepped to my side, and carried the song for a moment or two, then Ruth joined us, and we finished. My sons all said that my mother was singing, and that a few others joined in. It was the moment that allowed everyone to free their tears.
My sisters, Mammie, and I at Christmas 2005
You know, you can plan to say "Goodbye", and think it will be tearless. But, when you are in the midst, it is the tears that allow us to wash it all away. Maybe not all, but at least the stuff you do not wish to remember. My sisters and I, along with our mother, gathered in an embrace. Our final tears were shed there, as the group of little girls that were influenced by a woman who stood her ground and yet under the harshness, of voice or hand, allowed her love somehow to shine through. We are now all grown woman who stand in faith, love, and understand better what forgiveness is all about.
Good byes must have the word “good’ in them for a reason.
2 comments:
kindred relationships between women are absolutely one of the most wonderful gifts God has blessed us with. and when you are related by blood, well that's the cherry on top. beautiful post. beautiful grandma! i bet she would be proud of your approach to "good"bye!
I second Linda's comment. What a beautiful way to say goodbye.
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