![]() Aunts who didn’t think a visit was complete until they’d fed me, physically and spiritually. Other loved ones people my heritage of faith: A great-aunt, poor by worldly standards, but exceedingly wealthy in grace and kindness. Even though he was with us for a relatively short time, we continue to experience the impact of Ray’s unconditional love and steadfast faith nearly 26 years later. When we held Mom’s funeral in that tiny church, I showed my grandchildren the Sunday school classroom where she’d studied those lessons.ĭuring my husband’s graveside service, one of the pastors told then 10-year-old Mary and 7-year-old Jessie their lives would be forever blessed by having a godly father. Seeing the four of them huddled close, looking at the decades-old leaflets that proclaimed timeless truths, is one of my most cherished memories. Mom brought some of her childhood Sunday school papers to show Joshua, Lyla, and Emma during one of our weekly visits. Both small in stature, they had big, compassionate hearts and lived their lives based on their abiding faith in God, a faith they instilled in subsequent generations. ![]() Mom and PaPa were cut from the same cloth. When Mom talked about her father, she often mentioned how much he loved God and that church and how he was there to serve and worship every time the doors were open. Tucked amidst my fond reminiscences of PaPa are those of attending Sunday school at the little country church where he served as a deacon. And, like me with my grandfather, an enduring sense of her love for them will bind those memories together. I have photos and details to go along with all those experiences to help reinforce them in the minds of my grandchildren. And I hope they’ll remember making goodies with her a few days before her last Christmas. ![]() Maybe there will even be memories of marathon Play-Doh sessions or coloring with her. Then there was the ritual of standing next to their diminutive great-grandmother to see how much they needed to grow to catch up to her, something Joshua accomplished the last time they compared heights. Which memories might fill my grandchildren’s mental portfolio of time spent with Mom? In addition to her loathing of snakes, I expect they’ll recall her reading to them as all three snuggled as close to Mama as possible to see the story illustrations. I attribute both practices to the connection to my grandfather. I’ve eaten an apple almost every day for as long as I can remember and began sharing apple slices with my grandchildren as soon as they could safely eat them. My memories are few, but precious – sitting on his lap eating apple slices, walking hand-in-hand to the small general store, stopping at the post office, waving to the conductor and counting the cars as the train passed by his house. Though my dear maternal grandfather, PaPa, died over 50 years ago when I was a couple of months shy of my seventh birthday, tears of love and longing well up when I think of him. ![]() How can I make such a bold statement? Because I know firsthand how unconditional love transcends the grave. Then again, I know they’ll never forget her. Given their ages, my grandchildren won’t have many detailed recollections of specific moments shared with Mom by the time they’re adults. I assured him, “Of course they do! At least one of us mentions her every time we’re together, especially if snakes come up in our conversation!”ĭespite my lighthearted attempt to console him by referring to Mom’s most despised critters, I understood Dad’s concern. Puzzled, I replied, “Do you mean Joshua, Lyla, and Emma?” ĭad nodded a mix of sadness and resignation lined his face.Ĭonfusion turned to disbelief. Several months after Mom passed away, Dad asked a surprising question, “Do you think the little children remember Thelma?” So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three, but the greatest of these is love. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. ![]()
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