Farewell

My grandmother died one year ago today. I gave one of the eulogies. I thought I would share it with you.

If you’ll indulge me in reading a passage that I think you’ll find germane to the celebration of our grandma’s life, I’d appreciate it - it comes from the book of Luke and was a passage that immediately entered my mind as I thought about what to say about the grand life that’s been lived.

From Luke 10

As they continued their travel, Jesus entered a village. A woman by the name of Martha welcomed him and made him feel quite at home. She had a sister, Mary, who sat before the Master, hanging on every word he said. But Martha was pulled away by all she had to do in the kitchen. Later, she stepped in, interrupting them. “Master, don’t you care that my sister has abandoned the kitchen to me? Tell her to lend me a hand.”

The Master said, “Martha, dear Martha, you’re fussing far too much and getting yourself worked up over nothing. One thing only is essential, and Mary has chosen it—it’s the main course, and won’t be taken from her.”

I don’t remember exactly the first time I knew who Grammy Lil was in my life. It might have been in the kitchen on Meldrum Street as we cleaned up the dish detergent that had sprayed everywhere when my 3-year-old hands weren’t quite strong enough to close the spring-loaded tray in the dishwasher. Or it might have been in her living room in the early mornings before the sun was up, listening to the clicking, spring-wound clock as she made Cream of Wheat for Grandpa before he went to work.

Regardless of when, all that really mattered was that I knew her to be my Grammy. The very best person to be near, at any time.

My relationship with her gained its most momentum when we lived in Sheridan, and we’d make the 5-hour drive on I-25 to their house at 116.

Lila and my relationship was built on cookies and Thanksgivings, and always laughter.

As I’ve grown older, one of the things that I have realized is how effortless Grammy made serving others look. So, the reason I refer to the classic story from scripture of Mary and Martha, was that Grammy Lil moved allegorically between both of those personas effortlessly. Lila had different seasons of her life in which one of those traits was more dominant than the other, but marvelously, she somehow always found a way to both have the most exquisite meal ready and still have what seemed to be endless time to play in the leaves on a cool fall afternoon in Colorado

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I have said many times to my wife how much I wished she could have known my Grandpa Vic before he got sick with parkinson’s, because Vic and Lila together made an immaculate team. A most memorable season of living as Martha was the nearly 20 years that she took care of Vic as his once Herculean body deteriorated. I remember a series of days in which I had to help get Grandpa to the doctor, and I remember thinking, “How was this diminutive lady doing all of this overwhelming work hour after hour, day after day, and year after year?”

But that was Grammy.

I never saw her grumble or complain about the circumstances that she and Vic found themselves in. In what seemed like minutes after his retirement and before they had even finished dreaming of their coming adventures together, he had his conversation with her at the kitchen table at Meldrum. He sat her down, and in his kind and very brave way, said that he was “grateful it wasn’t cancer, but that things might look different than what they thought.” Even with that news, it never diminished Grammy’s Love for him or her willingness to serve him in immeasurable ways.

The years in between Vic’s death and last Friday were spent in another season, but this time, in one where Grammy most embraced her inner Mary. She dedicated her energies towards her family, time together, and a rekindled love of the things of Jesus. All those years that Vic was sick, and she was unable to sing in the choir, were made anew as she found energy and time for Bible Study Fellowship, going to church, and singing again in the choir. Even in her last days as she waited for her body to fail her, her focus was singularly on reuniting with her Savior.

The example of living in the tension between Martha and Mary that Grammy demonstrated to all of us is a heritage that has invaded each of our lives. Every one of us has a better, kinder, enriched life because of our grandmas or our mothers or our friends’ ability to miraculously move between these two kinds of personalities. Thanksgiving dinner was always ready, and Grammy Lil was always ready for her family, friends, and Jesus.

I heard recently something that resonated as a parent. Someone said, “You never remember the last time you picked up your child.” Life keeps moving, and that last time that you picked up your child and held them to your chest is something that you can’t place your finger on. You don’t remember where it was, when it was, or what the circumstances were the last time…only in retrospect do you know that there was a “last time.”

Similarly, I don’t remember the last time I still felt youthful enough to remember the goodness of being a little grandkid. Maybe it was when I got too busy, or I was too interested in my own story as a teenager, but Grammy always made me feel like I was eight years old in the most positive of ways. Even in the last years and months of her life, when I would see her, my memories would flood back to the incredible times that we had had together in the garden at Meldrum, or a Disneyland, or walking the aisles of Steels Grocery market together.

She leaves behind something incredible. And it’s upon each face in this room. It’s in her children and her in-law kids. It’s in her grandchildren and her great-grandchildren. And at any given moment, I can be assured that you will say something, and it will remind me of Lila. It might be a laugh, or in a recipe, or in a warm hug, but each of us will have that for as long as our breaths exist, which is a gift that is hard to describe. I will miss her beyond what anyone could count. But I will never take for granted the fact that my life was as graced and blessed as it was by such a wonderful woman.