I’ve been hearing my dead Grandma’s voice a lot lately.
And no, I don’t hear/speak to ghosts or have psychic capabilities, but I hear her voice loud and clear every, single night.
As I lay in my bed and listen to the monitor from the kids’ room, I hear her telling them stories I listened to when I was young. Her tender voice reading the tales of my past to my part in the future.
Her partially full glass of water used as the “ding” that signaled time to turn the page. Cars in the background. Life going on as my Grandma took time out of her’s to read a stack of books recorded onto a cassette for my birthday. And all my cousins’ birthdays, too, until we entered the second grade. Grandma tapes. Genius!
See my Grandma Rosie is one of those people you just can’t let go. She was/is part of the fiber of my being. She wasn’t just a Grandma to me. She actively loved me — and the rest of the family — in such a deep, unrockable way that I just can’t seem to get over it, you know.
And today marks the three-year anniversary of her death. I still long to tell her what's going on and I ache for her advice. Since her death I feel like the armor of my youth has a chunk missing. But I keep going on. Life keeps going on. You just pack the hurt in a suitcase and board the plane of life with it. And when the sad creeps up and threatens to take away from my current blessings, I listen in my memories for her voice. I don't want to let my tears drown all of my precious, happy and priceless memories she worked an entire lifetime to build.
So today I'm not all sad. But I am thankful for her. Thankful she is my Grandma. Thankful she lived such a great example of how the important things in life should be ordered. How to put the struggles/worries of the days in perspective.
I recently came across something special in the Bible — coincidently, it was the one she gave Matt and me for our wedding. As I read the verses describing a Godly woman, I got chills. Grandma Rosie.
"A wife of noble character who can find?
She is worth far more than rubies.
Her husband has full confidence in her
and lacks nothing of value...
She gets up while it is still dark;
she provides food for her family
and portions for her servant girls...
She sets about her work vigorously;
her arms are strong for her tasks.
She sees that her trading is profitable,
and her lamp does not go out at night...
When it snows, she has no fear for her household;
for all of them are clothed in scarlet...
She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.
She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children arise and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:
Many women do noble things,
but you surpass them all."
— Proverbs 31: 10-29
And no, I don’t hear/speak to ghosts or have psychic capabilities, but I hear her voice loud and clear every, single night.
As I lay in my bed and listen to the monitor from the kids’ room, I hear her telling them stories I listened to when I was young. Her tender voice reading the tales of my past to my part in the future.
Her partially full glass of water used as the “ding” that signaled time to turn the page. Cars in the background. Life going on as my Grandma took time out of her’s to read a stack of books recorded onto a cassette for my birthday. And all my cousins’ birthdays, too, until we entered the second grade. Grandma tapes. Genius!
See my Grandma Rosie is one of those people you just can’t let go. She was/is part of the fiber of my being. She wasn’t just a Grandma to me. She actively loved me — and the rest of the family — in such a deep, unrockable way that I just can’t seem to get over it, you know.
And today marks the three-year anniversary of her death. I still long to tell her what's going on and I ache for her advice. Since her death I feel like the armor of my youth has a chunk missing. But I keep going on. Life keeps going on. You just pack the hurt in a suitcase and board the plane of life with it. And when the sad creeps up and threatens to take away from my current blessings, I listen in my memories for her voice. I don't want to let my tears drown all of my precious, happy and priceless memories she worked an entire lifetime to build.
So today I'm not all sad. But I am thankful for her. Thankful she is my Grandma. Thankful she lived such a great example of how the important things in life should be ordered. How to put the struggles/worries of the days in perspective.
I recently came across something special in the Bible — coincidently, it was the one she gave Matt and me for our wedding. As I read the verses describing a Godly woman, I got chills. Grandma Rosie.
"A wife of noble character who can find?
She is worth far more than rubies.
Her husband has full confidence in her
and lacks nothing of value...
She gets up while it is still dark;
she provides food for her family
and portions for her servant girls...
She sets about her work vigorously;
her arms are strong for her tasks.
She sees that her trading is profitable,
and her lamp does not go out at night...
When it snows, she has no fear for her household;
for all of them are clothed in scarlet...
She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.
She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
Her children arise and call her blessed;
her husband also, and he praises her:
Many women do noble things,
but you surpass them all."
— Proverbs 31: 10-29
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