Granny

It's been a year.  It's time to finally make this post.  I have put it off long enough because I just wanted to do it right.  This time, last year, we lost Granny.  At 101 (and 1/2), she left us.  We really thought we would have her longer and her passing caught us off guard.  Papaw was also extremely ill at the time, and I band aided my grief by taking care of him.  With the holidays up on us, it has hit me.  This woman.  This special woman that raised my husband.  That in itself, is a legacy.   Though, not an affectionate person, she was extremely proud of her family.  Of all the care giving I have done over the years, Granny was the easiest.  She never asked for anything...except a daily phone call.  If the phone call didn't come by 7:30 pm she went into full panic mode and would redial the number over and over.  Our little family was all she had.  We were her world.  Last weekend, Larry and I went to the cemetery to honor her passing and put a sweet Christmas wreath on the grave site.  We stood quietly, and enjoyed the moment to reminisce.  AND then it happened.  The phone rang.  It was not my phone, and it was not Larry's phone but it was a loud clear ring.  We looked at each other and we didn't know whether to laugh or run....because there was NO ONE anywhere close to us.  NO ONE.  

If your still reading this, I want to share part of her eulogy that Beth (her namesake) made at her small graveside service.  At 101, you have pretty much outlived your family and your friends.

With as many times as I saw Granny, spoke with her and spent time with her, I can admit that she was hard to know intimately.  She was reserved, maybe even a little shy, always content to quietly sit, observe, and listen to what was more than likely loud and crazy chaos in the room.  She had lived a lot of life in 101 years and was resilient: surviving two World Wars, The Great Depression, and the early loss of loved ones, not to mention witnessing events such as Charles Lindbergh flying over her house in St. Louis en route to his flight across the Atlantic.  These are things my generation only gets to read about in history books, or Google if you're my kid's ages.  But, I observed her simply enjoying the presence of people, which is exactly how God designs us...to be in fellowship with one another.  Granny would often get a spark in her eye when the conversation led to a subject she had fond memories of.  This usually included the many travels she shared with my grandfather, Poppy, the latest HUGE Cadillac she was driving, gardening or cooking, and of course she had at least a hundred stories about her two rambunctious boys and all their adventures.  Having been the den mother for their scout troops for years, there were plenty of Tom Sawyer - type tales to keep us giggling and probably shaking our heads that we were still witnessing similar behavior from the one here that you all know well (Larry).  She was fiercely proud of her two sons as well as her grandchildren and great grand kids.  I say this because, when any of us visited her at the Jackson Garage near Fair Park or at her assisted living home in Grapevine, she would light up like a Christmas tree and repeatedly tell her friends or coworkers that those were HER kids, daughter in law, or grand kids with a big smile plastered on her face.  This undoubtedly is where BIG POP, aka Scary Larry, Aunt Larry, etc. gets the phrase "Huh? Huh? Ya know?"  They both want you to remember this important thing they are quite proud of.

Speaking of things she passed down to my Dad, Granny was an extremely hard worker.  She opened Jackson Motor Company with her husband in 1950 and continued to manage the desk there everyday, even as a widow, through the age of 89.  For years and years, she cooked daily meals for her employees.  That said, I think we can all agree that my Dad inherited this kind of work ethic.  He also inherited their extreme generosity.  Granny and Poppy were always extravagant with their gifts and loved to give us whatever our hearts desired.  We were consistently showered with trips to the circus, money for every A we earned on report cards, and only the finest bicycles on the market at the time.  I always struggled with wanting them to know that I'd love them regardless, but I've learned over time that God designs us all with different love languages.  AND He is the ultimate gift~giver, a generous Father passing out only the best gifts available to his children.  Granny didn't speak much about her faith, but that doesn't mean she didn't have any.  I believe it was personal.  Romans 3:23 tells us that "all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God".  He knows the secrets of our hearts, he hears our prayers and the prayers of those who love us, and HIS grace is so much larger than any box we humans try to put it in.  Boy, I'm thankful for that in my own life!  So thank you to all of you sitting here, who embraced Granny as your own, prayed for her and with her and are still by our side as we lay her to rest.  Granny, we love you and thank you for giving us Big Pop and we promise to continue making you proud.

We miss you Granny.  Call us, if you need to!