My Grandmother passed away yesterday. I was by her bedside when she went. It was horrible and beautiful. The ugliness of death butt against the joy of eternal life, and she transcended the boundary in the blink of an eye.
The last moments were hard. A desperate gulp. A tear. A grimace. There is a struggle to leave. But the pain of that moment made the next sweeter. Mortality gave way to immortality. I sat crying by her bedside while she was ushered into glory, my bible still open in my hand. The last words I read to her were from Psalm 34:
“Those who look to him are radiant, and their faces shall never be ashamed.”
And she let go of this world, relaxing into death. She saw her Saviour face to face.
When I arrived earlier that morning, she looked as fragile as a porcelain doll. Breathing was hard for her. But the look on her face was so peaceful. Her gaze fell on loved ones with affection and joy. Though her body was breaking, her spirit was strong. She declared from the start, “I am not afraid to die.” Now she couldn’t talk, but the look was still in her eye.
She was a feisty lady who loved her children and grandchildren. I have childhood memories of Christmas’ at her home and of dresses she made me, of music and art and laughter. But one thing in particular stands out. She gave me the best Dad a girl could ask for. And for that, I am eternally thankful.
We love you and miss you Grandma. xoxo