I suppose many of you have been through this before, but I haven’t. Maybe I did a little when my wife’s dad died a few years ago. I am waiting for my grandmother to die. She is 93 and ready to die. It has been 17 days since she has eaten.
My grandmother lives in Miami, OK. That’s pronounced Miamuh to you Floridians. That’s Wyandotte Indian territory. That’s a lot of different Indian’s territory actually. A few tribes got a whole bunch of OK and they stuck seven others up in the corner by Missouri, Kansas, and Arkansas.
My grandmother has a beautiful Indian face with high cheekbones. She is Wyandotte and German. Her mom’s maiden name was Meisenheimer. It is easier to see her Indian heritage than the German when you look into her eyes.
Wyandotte’s come from the Huron tribe. The Huron tribe was Magua’s tribe in Last of the Mohicans. My ancestors kept getting moved westward as the U.S. was settled. Finally, the Great Lakes were there and they moved south into Ohio. Some remained in Michigan and a century ago others ended up in Oklahoma.
Granny has been in a lot of pain recently. For the last few years her bones have been crackin’ and she has been getting weaker and weaker. She was moved into a nursing home this summer. She hates it, but wasn’t able to take care of herself at home anymore.
I am 42. When she was 42 the Korean War was coming on. That was 9 years before I was born. She has seen much in her days. World War I as a little girl. She lived through the stock market crash of 29 and the great depression. She was a young mother of 5 during World War II.
She has had to bury 2 of those kids. One died in a car wreck and the other in a logging accident. My dad is alive and has helped to support her as the years went by. My grandfather Homer died in 1970 or ’71. I have another Aunt who lives in Miami and also my aunt Judy who is mentally retarded. She will miss her mom since they have lived together her entire life.
I am sad, yet I rejoice. I ache, but I hope. My grandmother has a saving faith in Christ. I am weighed down by melancholy sitting on my chest as we wait for her to die. I am glad she finally will be able to go and spend eternity with our Lord. She has said for years she is just waitin’…waitin’ on the rapture.
I will miss knowing she is praying for me. She has been praying for me for over 40 years. I gasped when I first thought of it. It is hard to put words to. The beauty of that love massages my tear ducts. She has prayed for me to know God more and more for 2 score. I do.
I am a part of the bride of Christ. I called out to Him at age 28. Suicidal and with just enough rope left to hang myself I called out to God, “Either take me back or show me the way!” I don’t really know if I thought I was talking to anybody but I was. God showed me the way. My life has changed dramatically since that day. So for 14 years my Granny and I have been able to talk about our God. She has been blessed to see my relationship and heart grow and I have been blessed to know God and to know that my Granny smiled when she thought about me.
And now I cry. I will miss our occasional conversations. I’ll miss her telling me she’s been praying for me every day. I’ll miss how she says ooohh with a rising in pitch at the end. I’ll miss hugging her little frail body. Mostly, I’ll miss her prayers.
And soon my Granny enters a great party in heaven. Her Lord will lift her veil and tell her how lovely she is, to grab some party favors, to cut a rug, and to hoot and holler. The suffering is over, let the good times roll.
Update--The time came a few hours ago on Sunday, November 22nd. The suffering is now officially over for her. May she party for eternity.