And Yet Another

A dear friend passed away this morning.

She joins my Grandmother who also just died.

My Mom phoned yesterday to let me know that her Mother, who has been ailing for awhile now, has gone to her reward.  I believe it will be a good one.

I can't mourn for her, as one who has no hope, because I really do believe that I'll see her again.

I don't mourn her out of regret. I have none. I know she loved me, and I know that she knew that I loved her. I wasn't able, after I left home, to be there very often to visit, but I knew, and I know she knew. And that is enough.

I mourn, mostly, that my children won't mourn her passing. It saddens me that circumstance and God took me far from my "home" so that my children never knew their maternal Great-Grandparents.

It also brings up a whole mess of other "home" issues. Things I don't think of often, but they creep in once in a while.

Sometimes it bothers me that neither my husband nor I have a "family homestead" to return to. Neither of our parents stayed in the towns  or houses they first settled in. So neither my husband nor I could take our children to a place and say "This is where I was born. This is the house I grew up in. This was my room!" 

It's not a big thing, but it also underlines the impermanence of Randall's vocation. None of our children will have a "family homestead" to bring their children to either.

Like I said, it's not a big thing, but it's a little bit of a sad thing.

And so, we'll have to say goodbye to our good friend here this week, and I'll be saying goodbye to Grandma Brown as well. I may not be able to go West for the funeral, but I'll be there in spirit if not in body.

And as I remember Grandma Brown, I'll be grateful that my parents and their parents had children when they were quite young, so I could have a young, vibrant Grandma. I'll remember staying with her when I was little for a week at a time. I'll remember going with her to deliver milk... and to get the mail at the little general store... and whole wheat pancakes with homemade butter and jam, and fresh milk... and the week I spent there before my wedding when I raided her pantry and baked squares and dainties, with her help, for my wedding reception... and the beautiful crystal pedestal serving plate she gave us for a wedding gift, because "what would I tell people when they asked what my grandparents had given us", if they gave us the 1/4 beef I asked for! (we also got the beef, and hadn't eaten as well as our first year until we came to deer hunting country here!)

My Grandma Brown was faithful. She was generous, and wise. When she survived Hodgkins Disease, she said it must be because God needed her here to be praying for us. And I know she did.

Goodbye Grandma.