Memories Still My Aching Heart

        I think, we as humans, don't want to see our loved ones move out of this world, but we, as Christians, know that this world is not our home, but Heaven is our final resting place. It's still hard to see someone we love move away; we miss them, not only because they are gone from our presence, but also because we don't know when our walk down here will end. In the past 30 years of my life, I have seen many end their walk down here, many of whom I loved as my own family. And, although, I am human and have shed many tears, I have that hope that I will see them all again. That in itself is a comfort.
        Some of my best friends have been up in years, but it didn't bother me because they have a wisdom beyond my years. I have endless memories of sunny days spent on a porch swing just talking "about the good old days," playing piano duets with one the greatest pianists I have ever known, Grandma Bobbi, and most recently, long talks in the kitchen of Grandma Mae. I spent endless hours with Grandma Bobbi, playing Scrabble, her favorite game, playing the piano, her favorite instrument, and talking. I'd often ride my bike to her house after my paper route was over or my homework was done in high school. She watched me grow up and often spoke of the time she babysat me while my parents went to an adult outing at church. Her favorite story was of me singing, "Zacchaeus was a wee little man and a wee little man was he...." I have no recollection of this event, but she reminded me every single time I came to visit. I would sit for hours at her piano, attempting to play songs too hard for my ability, but she was always the words of encouragement. We often played duets and just took turns playing the piano. When I received the news that she went Home, I was out of state in college. I had no way of going home to the funeral; all I had were the memories of which I am thankful.
        In the last several years, I have had the opportunity to meet yet another dear saint who became a close friend of mine, Grandma Mae. She never was able to have biological children, but she was blessed with more children and grandchildren than anyone I know. She loved my kids like her own grand kids, and would often "tear up" when I had to leave, walking me to my car and often standing at my window, talking away, hoping we could stay longer. Last year when she was in the hospital, my kids picked out a white, stuffed Easter bunny and had me give it to her. It meant the world to her, and every time she saw the kids, she'd say to them, "My Easter bunny is waiting for you on my couch; when are going to come and see him?" She kept everything anyone ever gave to her, and every time I'd visit her, she'd take the time to show me even if she had already showed me everything. After this past Christmas, she had ALL of her gifts from various people stacked on her couch, and we spent quite a long time going through everything and she'd have a story for each gift all the way to a pair of socks she swore she'd "never wear, but you should take them honey because they look more like your style."
        This past Sunday evening, I had an awesome "last talk" with Grandma Mae, and it was like she was trying to tell me "good-bye." I believe she already knew deep in her heart that it wouldn't be long. I laughed and said, "Don't talk like that! You're still young...what are you now, 25?" She just smiled and patted my hand. I asked her when her birthday was because she NEVER would tell me before. She told me it was past, January 23. I told her I'd be getting her a gift soon. She smiled again and gave me a big bear hug and told me she loved me.
        Wednesday evening, I heard the news she had finally gone Home. I didn't know it would affect me like it did, but I felt a deep ache in my heart. But, as I was walking outside around sunset last night, I looked at the sky and knew she was in the presence of our Lord and Earth was the farthest thing from her mind. It was selfish for me to want her back here. She was re-united with her husband, family members who had gone before and friends, but more importantly with the Christ who rose from the grave over 2000 years ago.
        I haven't told Charity and JW yet, Grandma Mae, but I will, I promise. They can treasure those memories with you, jumping in your leaves, playing with your stuffed animals, and the piles of junk food. I love you, and I'll see you again on the other side.