There are very few things I can say about my grandmother, and even fewer things to remember her by.
As my mom went home for the first time since her mother's death, I asked her to bring back a few things belonging to Vera. I always admired her giant collection of useless but fascinating things and hoped to hold onto some in her passing.
And while my mother did bring back trinkets for me, she also brought home an insanely joyful demeanor. She was rejazzed from her visit home, which was perfect. Because Vera is a lady to be celebrated.
She raised seven kids all by herself, and none of them killed each other (although there were a few close calls). Every job she had somehow involved caring for those in even poorer conditions than those she lived in. And after decades of wearing work, she lived as humbly as possible to send as much money as she could to hungry kids. She wrote her initials in every piece of clothing she owned. She was honest and sassy. She could make anyone laugh. She preached the gospel and saw grace more clearly than anyone I have ever known. She got it.
I haven't grieved. And I don't think I will. I miss her. But I'll see her soon.
I have been thinking about her a lot. How much she shaped the woman I am becoming, more than anybody would have anticipated. I didn't spend much time with her. But her values and attitudes and humor impressed something upon me.
P.S. Read Galations. Twice. Or three times. Blowin my mind. Just love Jesus and do whatever the hell you want. I think that's the trick.
