Today is your Birthday. You're celebrating in Heaven, if we celebrate Birthdays in Heaven. Malachi asked me today, "so, once you die you get flowers for your gifts always?" I laughed and said that I think being in Heaven is probably more amazing a gift than any we could dream up on Earth. Anyway, there are some things I want you to know today, on your Birthday.
I want you to know . . .
that your legacy lives on. I talk about you to my children and they know things about you, and they do and say things that I learned from you.
That we took flowers to your grave today. I couldn't afford to buy a bouquet, so I cut some from my garden and took them in a little mason jar, which reminded me of the juice glasses you used to serve us juice in every morning when we visited.
That I cry when I think of you, but not bitter tears. I cry because I miss you and because the profound impact you had on my life makes me feel emotional and so thankful to be your granddaughter. And sometimes I cry because my children won't know you like I did - at least not until we're all in Heaven together.
That I remember you. I remember your hands tucking me in and bouncing me, your soft face, your loving eyes. I remember what your voice sounded like singing hymns next to me in the Baptist church.
That your sense of humor has carried down through the generations, and when we get together, we laugh until we cry.
That I am so glad you met three of my kids, and so sad that you didn't meet one of them. How you would love Canaan's bright eyes and sparkling smile, Grandma.
That the kids and I sang "Happy Birthday" to you at your grave. And that as I looked down and saw that enough time has passed for the grass to have completely covered over the scarred earth, I could hardly finish the song.
That, most of all, I am thankful that you passed along a love for the Lord. That you held your little girls and sang to them and took them to church and taught them to love Jesus, so that my own mother could do the same for me, and now I can pass it along to my own children. There's nothing greater that you could have done, Grandma. Your life counts for so much.