Grandma made such a wonderful grandmother for her grandchildren. Although she didn't live near any of them, she made the most out of the time that she did have with them about twice a year. One time would be at her and her husband's (My grandfather had died at the age of 37. She remarried a high school friend 16 years later, who had just lost his wife ) at their beautiful home in Newport News, Virginia. The other time would be at her grandchildren's homes.
Those trips were so eagerly anticipated. For many years, I thought that the song, "She'll Be Comin' Round the Mountain," was one that my mother had made up about Grandma. We would sing it throughout the day when we knew that Grandma was on way to our house in Rhode Island, from Virginia.
When she came to visit, she would always bring two large, heavy, light-brown suitcases. My brothers and I were always amazed at how much she had brought! One suitcase would be absolutely packed full with beautiful outfits, shoes, jewelry, and hats (which she was known for for many years), which she intended to wear throughout the week as she met with old friends and went to church with us. The other suitcase was loaded with gifts for everyone. She always brought bags of salt water taffy. Items like quilts, braided rugs, and oil paintings that she had made and done, were given at some of these visits.
The twelve hour drive to her house in Newport News, Virginia was well worth it. Everything at her home was absolutely perfect. She would stay busy the whole time, mostly preparing, serving, and cleaning up after the wonderful meals that she had planned, prepared, and put in the chest freezer for weeks or months ahead of time.
She and her husband, Don, had a beautiful yard. My grandmother delighted in flowers and had them growing in beautiful gardens around the grassy lawn. At the back edge of the property was a screened-in gazebo which had a fireplace and picnic table where we would sometimes eat. The highlight was the smooth, slate pathway going around the whole house. It was perfect for riding around and around the house on the old brown metal tricycle for hours and hours everyday.
However, each visit to Virginia would have one absolutely dreaded (at least to my brothers and I) event. It was the day trip to historic Williamsburg and "The Pottery," which was a giant place with lots of things that we children had absolutely no appreciation for, but my parents and grandmother were quite excited about it. Many of our family's and my grandmother's dishes came from there.
There were more special times, trips, and visits together as time went on and we all grew older. People would tell me, much to my surprise, that they knew that their grandchildren wouldn't be interested in them anymore once they'd become teenagers. I never grew tired of any of my grandparents. They were all very special to me.
Around the age of 93, my grandmother's mind began to wane. She was still quite active, but mentioned that she wasn't cooking or cleaning as she used to. I was 37. My husband and I had just sold our house in Rhode Island and were planning to move to Florida with our seven young sons. My husband's family and my other, younger grandmother lived in Florida. We decided to forgo that and move to my Grandmother's house, who lived in South Carolina at that point, and help her out.
While taking care of Grandma, she gradually declined throughout the years. I would purposely bring to mind the many good times that we had had together. I knew that although she had aged, looked different and wasn't capable of what she used to be, she was still the same woman on the inside.
It was such an incredible blessing to be able to celebrate her 100th birthday with her. We sent invitations to family and friends a couple of months ahead of time. We had a good turnout and a lovely time.
During Grandma's last month or two, she liked to hold hands with anyone who was willing. It was a comfort and a connection, for both people. A few days before she passed, at the age of 100 and 8.5 months, I was sitting a couple of feet from her during the church service that we were hosting in her home where we lived. She hadn't been able to swallow solid food for several days. We suspected that her body was shutting down and would pass soon. Several times during the church service, Grandma reached out her hand to me. I was sitting a couple of feet away. She held it out until I took hold of hers. It seemed as if she could barely see, but somehow she knew that I was there. We held hands tightly for a while, then she would let go.
It's moments like that and the time a month or two before, when my second son and I were doing our morning routine of helping Grandma go up and down the seven stairs in her kitchen. Sometimes it seemed treacherous for all three of us, but it was a good way to keep her strong. This particular morning, it seemed as if we would all topple down the stairs. Grandma looked at me with a sharp look. She could hardly talk anymore, but I could tell that she wanted to say something. I thought that she was angry at me for making her do the stairs. Much to my surprise, Grandma looked at me and said, "I… love… you."
It was an indescribable blessing, in so many ways, for our family to have been there. With everyone working together, my husband and I, our kids, and my uncle, who also lived there, were able to meet her needs. As her needs grew, so did our boys. Our oldest five sons would have their turns helping me to get Grandma up from bed and get around with her walker. She was still walking around until about a week before she died. The other children helped to bring her her meals. Our youngest child, who was two at the time, would voluntarily help feed her, near the end.
With Grandma's large home, we had been able to practice the hospitality that I had learned from her. She had 3.5 acres of land on which our kids were able to have what was almost like their own little world to play in. There were woods and fields, trees to climb, and animals to trap. We had the opportunity to turn Grandma's property into a small farm with fields of crops, and several different types of animals.
My husband turned one of her sheds into a woodshop and was able to do his work from home, be around our family and help me out with Grandma when needed. We were able to save some money which allowed us to move overseas to Eastern Europe, a couple of months after she passed.
Grandma was like our pillar of smoke and fire, and we were like the Israelites in the wilderness. We were planning to stay to care of her, if possible, until she passed on. However, just like the Israelites, we never knew when God would take her, signaling to us that it was time to go. Would we be there for weeks, months, or years? Where would we go next? Just as the Israelites didn't know ahead of time, we didn't either. We were just watching and waiting to see when and where He would lead us.
"So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom." Psalm 90:12
