Inspiration Came From Her Death
In response to Dancing Elephants prompt 35 of 52

She lived a good life. We can ask, What really does that mean? A good life can come in many colors. Hers was a rainbow of them all. She had a degree in nothing. She was a Mom of three children. Two of them were twins.
This lady had skills. She not only produced two children with one birth but she also cut cucumbers one-handed like a professional. Every Saturday we would sit at her kitchen table and slice up all the good veggies that made her salad such a great hit at those Sunday night Pot Luck dinners we had at church.
Three of the children she gave birth to were terrific souls. Their children also became significant people in my life. They tolerated her intense love for humanity. They did not seem to mind the way she added people to her family that were not even blood members.
Her name was Grammma, Gram for short. I put the name Margarite Gay on her gravestone because some people knew her as Marge. She asked me when I met her, “Who is your Grandma?”. ( The woman knew everyone in our county and all the surrounding counties too! ) I had to tell her that I didn’t have one. She responded with…
“Why, I’ll be your Grandma!”
“You can call me Gramma”, she said with a beautiful smile. From that day forward to twenty-five years after, she was my Grandma. She did everything a Grandma does except more. She called me every weekday morning at 6 am sharp to wake me for my bus ride to school. She would ring that phone until I answered. Sometimes that took half of an hour!
She let me stay the night and even the entire weekend with her at her house. That’s where the fun happened. No chores or strict rules were found at Grandma’s house. We sat and talked, played games, watched tv, cooked meals, and went to church.
These sound like simple activities many folks do. There is truth to that except those activities are not common for everyone. The activity was nice but the Grandma was nicer. Her heart was what kept me believing that I am loveable and that good hearts do exist.

I was an only child born from an orphan who was a single Mom that worked a lot. The local creeks and countryside were my stomping grounds. The birds and the crayfish were my friends. My hardworking Mom was my only family.
Grandma didn’t have a car yet we still managed to find our way to all the lawn sales and every social event her lady friends hosted. We cut veggies at her friend's house too. Canning everything from the garden was what these ladies did and because I was their star veggie cutter, I was able to join in on all the fun at all the tables.
Often as an adult, my friends will ask me while working in the kitchen, “Where did you learn to do that?” I have to tell them that I grew up in the kitchen with the elders. If we weren’t at church, a prayer meeting, a potluck dinner, a lawn sale, or the garden, we were in the kitchen prepping for our next event.

Years passed and I began to do life as an adult on my own. My husband and I had some children. Four of them in case you want to know the size of my family. She, of course, took ownership of my children and they called her Grandma too!
She loved my children the way she loved all of humanity. With the love of Christ and the love in her heart. She was a true Grandma. Nothing ever upset her. I cannot tell you that I know what she was like when angry. In all of those years of knowing her, she did not display anger.
Except for that one time. There was that one time while she was in her hospital bed that I think she might have qualified for angry. She sounded frustrated and I’m sure that is what she was at the time.

There we all were waiting in that dark hospital room with her in her hospital bed. We all filled the room sitting there with her. We were all very silent. She was on her way home and we all knew it from what the doctor had predicted.
She had a stroke and heart attack at the same time. Her speech was gone. Nothing she said made any sense to anyone. Her words sounded like an infant trying to talk. She had a do not resuscitate order as her dying wish. She wanted to die in peace without scientists studying her condition.
No IV, wires, or machines were in place. She lay there with us in that dark room absorbing the silence right along with us until she finally broke it. She mustered up the strength to sit up and say with frustration…
“Jeepers, now we have to sit around waiting to die.”
She was not frustrated about the death soon approaching. She was upset that it was taking so long and that we were all so sad and silent about it. She was a Christian woman who loves life and knows that it is eternal.
Grandma had battled asthma her whole life and was seventy-seven years old. She had friends and family and her savior Jesus Christ waiting at the ready for this transition. She was not worried, angry, or suicidal. She was in a hurry. She knew that new adventures were ahead.

Many months passed before Grandma did. She stayed in that hospital with hospice keeping her comfortable. I stayed too. Night and day I was at her side without a pause. I sang her favorite songs to her. She could not speak but she did say at one point, with a smile, that she needed a beautician.
I was her beautician. I had always fixed her hair on Saturday evening in time for Sunday church. So with her request, I fixed her hair and sang her those songs. The day finally came when she lost the energy to eat so I was not able to feed her anymore. The final time that I tried to feed her, she found the strength to say to me as she shook her head no,
“Honey, You’re to close.”
I later found out what she meant by that statement. I was too close. I wanted her to stay on the Earth with me for as long as I have to stay here. I wasn’t ready for a life without my Gram in it with me. She passed a few days later. It was the one and only day that I left her alone for a few hours. I returned to discover she had left for home.
I became aware of what Gram meant when she said I was too close. I was too close in all the ways. Just like going to the potty, sometimes people want privacy. Not everyone needs a loved one to hold their hand while pushing that last hard push.

Grandma lived apart from her husband but was never divorced. Her husband would come to her house to visit for a few days and then return back to his own home. ( She put him on the couch, but she did feed him. )
She lived on a fixed income that was near the poverty level, yet she always had something to give, including a smile. Grandma lived alone without a car but was known and seen by the entire community on a regular basis.
In Gram’s later years, we would all visit often. She loved the company and always had a meal to share and something to send you out the door with. I’d tell her how I hate to go home and leave her there alone. She would laugh and say,
“ Honey, I’m never alone. Christ is always with me.”
The church where we held her life celebration was loaded with no standing room left so we kept the door open for those standing outside in the parking lot! For hours we sat there telling of the great heart this woman had and all the ways she had touched the lives of others.
That was sixteen years ago. I still hear her laugh. I still feel her hugs and I still feel the peace she left me with. She died like she was on her way to the next potluck dinner and couldn’t wait to get there on time!

I’m still canning the garden and enjoying the days I’ve been gifted with while waiting to see who brought the brownies to the next potluck dinner. Chances are I won’t have my hair done for the event.
Living life as if it belongs to Christ can be a challenge. Grandma made it look easy with her consistent smile and steady presence in the community. She laughed at calamity. Her doors were always open to anyone in need. She gave when she had nothing and had great joy in doing so.
Grandma loved humanity. She loved life and was so full of joy about the fact that life never ends. She went home with a smile anxious for the next adventure, and of course, she had her hair done by her favorite beautician for the event.

We come and we go. When we leave is only for God to know. While we’re hear we have love to sow. Give it and get it while you're hoeing the row. Let your light shine full of color brighter than a rainbow!
Garima Sharma wrote a poem about finding happiness in life. Read it knowing life has more than just strife…
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Once you’ve learned about the Whistling Milk Thistle you can continue to learn about all the healthy healing plants that grow freely at your feet and put them to use in your life too!
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