90, 91, 92...and one to grow

When my birthday rolled around, I knew for certain one specific thing would always happen: Grandma would pull my ears (on the bottom) as many times as I was old and then one final pull (on the top) while adding, "and ONE to grow", followed by a wonderful Grandma laugh and hug.

A few days ago, Grandma entered the place where ear-pulling does not exist because neither does time or years. I called her on her birthday the day before the stroke occurred. Joking that if I was with her, I would pull her ears 92 times. She declared, "Well, I guess I'm glad you're not here then!"

Heaven gained one amazing 92-year-old woman last Monday. And while I know the right thing to do is rejoice because she is face to face with Jesus (and her beloved husband), I can't help but shed many tears. There is a huge hole in all of our lives where she used to fill.

She was quite honestly, one of my best friends. I called her often. If I had a long road trip to a photo session or really, just for any reason, I would dial her number and know she would 99% of the time pick up and share a conversation with me. I know she prayed for family members daily and had a genuine interest in each of our lives. 4 children and their spouses, 12 grandchildren and their families, and 27 great grandchildren. That's a lot of praying!

Never missed a birthday or anniversary. She sent cards out faithfully.

She stood at many of our kitchen sinks and helped us peel peaches, apples, and tomatoes to fill our canning jars. Husked, silked, and cut off corn and green beans for our freezers. Not because she had to, but because she counted it PURE JOY to help with the process of preserving food for the winter months.

She taught me so many things, like how to play Skippo and Dutch Blitz. How to take care of and enjoy flowers. But more importantly, she taught me how to love unconditionally. How to give of my time and talent for the benefit of others. How to be selfless. How to take time for the important things in life. Things that really matter. Because in the end, people are real and everything else is fake. Period. My life is rich because she invested in it.

Yesterday, at her funeral, my eyes leaked many tears. (Still leaking today and probably will leak for awhile yet). My heart broke in a million pieces knowing I can't just call her and stop in for a visit.  My arms hugged lots of extended family members and we shared many memories of our beloved Mother, Grandma and Great Grandma. But my spirit ultimately rejoiced knowing that Grandma is more alive than she ever was. In dying, she will live forever.

So, this summer when I am canning fruits and freezing vegetables, it may feel empty without her tiny presence beside me. But now I get to carry on the tradition of bringing donuts for our snack break, using my Pioneer paring knife, and teaching my kids to play all the games she taught me. And pulling ears at birthdays...that will certainly be passed on to the next generation.

And ONE to grow...