Legacy

This past summer, my family lost a woman whose legacy is her faith. At 102 years, 8 month and 24 days old, my Granny joined the church triumphant. But the end is unimportant, her story, her legacy is everything that happened in between November 4, 1913 and July 29, 2016,  On and off since her passing, I've been writing this. Sometimes I stop because I'm crying, others it's because of life getting in the way. I've finally finished...it only took me 8+ months.

Granny was raised in a farmhouse built by her father on 48 acres of land. The majority of her life was lived in that same house. It, like her, is a legacy and a testament to a life well lived. She had married, twice, and left the old homestead and her parents but returned after the death of my grandfather. It was in the early sixties and she had two fairly young children to raise (my other aunt and uncle were already grown and on their own). She returned to a place where she could help her parents as they aged but also raise my mother and uncle on what little income she had. While, clearly, I wasn't around then, at least later in life she never complained about her struggle during that time. I know from my mom that it wasn't easy. I know she worked as a bookkeeper at the hospital but, beyond that, there isn't much I know.

She retired on December 8, 1978, the eve of my birth. But she still actively worked as her church's treasurer - though that may have purely been volunteer work.

Granny came to our house often in my younger years to keep my sister and I when my parents were out of town. She was loving and caring but tough and fair when we  misbehaved. I don't remember how old I was exactly when I learned that, as much as Granny loved me, she would "switch" me if necessary. I must have been 7 or 8. I had done something very bad (though I do not remember now what) and had lied about it saying it was my sister. After punishing me, Granny comforted me and reminded me that, even if I am in trouble, I should be honest because my word is important.

I remember going to visit Granny all by myself for at least a week during the summer during my preteen and early teen years. She always made sure, even with her meager social security income, to have my favorite foods on hand. She also would take me with her to her church, St. Mark's UMC in Center, Texas for worship on Sunday and Bible study on Wednesday. It was after one particular Bible study that I recall one of the few times I've ever seen Granny upset. I won't go into the particulars because it doesn't matter but the pastor had been condemning people and, at the age of 11 (ish), I didn't understand what she was upset about exactly. My father, a preacher, didn't use his pulpit to condemn but I knew others did. My Granny didn't agree with condemnation. Beyond the simple fact that he had done so to anyone, she was angry that he had, without realizing it (I hope) condemned her and while her granddaughter was present. I'm sure she spoke to him later about it. But that night as we drove back to her house, she and I had one of many faith discussions. It is from those conversations over the years that I knew it wasn't my place to judge or condemn others because, amongst many reasons, I am not God and I do not know the hearts of others.

Granny also instilled a sense of what family is and should be in me. When the family gathered at the farmhouse, the house was bursting at the seems. And that was before the grandkids got married and had her great-grands! This was back in the day when my 7 cousins and I would have a pallet spread in the front room and camp out, one of those led to many of us having chicken pox shortly thereafter! Television wasn't really an entertainment option, unless of course football was on, as there were 3 channels and one small TV in the dining/living room. So we played outside on the porch, in the yard, and walked up and down the red dirt road. Or, if outside wasn't an option due to rain or heat (it is Texas!), you could always count on a game of Monopoly to be had. And we are a slightly (cough cough) competitive bunch. I believe the term cutthroat would apply to our games that might last 3 days! Even now, when get together, there is a game. Generally not Monopoly as it takes too long, but Mexican Train nowadays. And it's still just as competitive but also just as fun and loving...

Granny's legacy of faith and family is evidenced in each of us, as is her legacy of education. She was once a teacher and made sure we all valued learning. One of her children, 2 of her grands, and 1 of her great grands are all in the education field. Two of my favorite "Granny" stories from recent years show this value perfectly. When Mr. C was 2 or 3 she sat with him on her lap and held his hand while he held a crayon to teach him to write. As I talked to him about her passing, he told me that was his favorite memory.

Even now, all these months later, my kids talk about Granny. How much they love her. How much they miss her. How much they want to see and talk to her again. Even how much they want me to send her an invitation to the birthday party that's coming up. They know she's in Heaven and that they'll see her again one day. For now, that's enough. One day, when they're old enough, I'll tell them all the things they didn't know.