She wore blue every day but she was buried in pink. She took painstaking care of her fingernails and piled her hair in a dizzying intricate pattern my young brain couldn't follow. She was a diligent writer, a capturer of life and communicator to whom every word had a different, deeper meaning.
My paternal grandmother was like a living mystery. A day with her was like stepping into the pages of an adventure where stories twist but end with predictability's comfort. She was comfortable expressing exactly who she was even if it was in a misunderstood vernacular.
When she passed, her seven
grandchildren all asked for a single tin cookie press. He had molded thousands
of gingerbread boys and each of our hearts. Her gingerbread boy wasn't content
to stand idly waiting to be eaten. He was in a perpetual run - taking in all
that was left of his life with wild abandon.
Since I'm the youngest grandchild, I
had zero chance of receiving the most coveted prize from her estate but I did
receive this picture of her kitchen that could have been captured on any
day. She celebrated them all with the flare of the extraordinary. Her gingerbread boy was a lot like her.
Inscribed on the back in her hand
were the words:
"Any thyme life gives you
lemons...make lemon pound cake."
Lemonade wasn't enough for Grandma.
Liquid runs right through you but a pound cake is weighty and substantial. She
wanted me to see the set-backs in my life as opportunities to engage my world
as she had hers. She wanted me to take what someone else might call failure and fashion a future.
Today I wear turquoise as often as I
can. I apply cuticle oil to my nails daily. And I have a passion for communication.
I face challenges as adventures
knowing my life will twist and turn but end with predictability's comfort. Someday I
will hobble my way to her home in heaven. And any thyme life gives me
lemons...I'll make lemon pound cake.
What is your natural reaction when
you face disappointment or loss? What difference could the presence of the One
who turned water into wine make? If He can do that with water, just imagine what He could do with lemons...
OOOH, Shannon, I love this analogy. The lemon pound cake is much more substantial. LOVE those grandmas who impact our lives forever. I had one, too. And I'm planning to be one someday, Lord willing.
ReplyDeleteIsn't it? I think of my Grandma often and pray I have that kind of generational impact on my grandkids!
DeleteShe sounds like an amazing lady. In hope I can have the kind of impact your grandmother had.
ReplyDeleteShe was the finest!
Delete"She wore blue everyday but was buried in pink." --What a line that draws me in and intrigues me further.
ReplyDeleteYour grandma sounds special. Thanks for this post.
Thanks for stopping by my site too, Orange Juice girl.
Jennifer Dougan
www.jenniferdougan.com
Thanks, Jennifer, you are such a wonderful encourager and I so appreciate that about you!
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