apparently i have too much time on my hands, because i really did just google search how many 'world’s best grandmother' mugs are sold each year. turns out google doesn't know everything, or at least it doesn't hang on to irrelevant data like that. so i didn't get an answer, but i do know that more than 1 grandmother has that mug of status, and that mine did not. i can only conclude that all of the mugs are lying to their owners.
i know that the majority of grandmothers are indeed wonderful women who have played a crucial role in the lives of their families. far be it from me to scorn anyone who has achieved the rank of "Grandmother." however, it’s not only the things she did, but the traits of hers that they demonstrate, that serve as evidence of her enduring greatness.
she was reliable, diligent, strong - she did whatever needed to be done. returning from a toy story trip during one of her new york visits, we found ourselves locked out. at least as it goes in my memory, without missing a beat or batting an eye, she took a rock and broke the window to reach through and unlock the door. the title "Grandmother" reached new levels of awe. i was sick in a hospital outside NYC on "the" 9/11. every eye in the country was glued to the nearest tv- except mine when Grandmother walked into my room for her pre-arranged visit, right when she said she'd be there, with a gift in hand. she had family members she felt called to minister to, and nobody was going to shut down the subways until she reached her destination. i don't ever remember getting a birthday or valentine's day card late- including 2008, which was the year my alma mater was flattened by an F4 tornado. i stayed in town for the extra 2-week break and grabbed the few envelopes from my mailbox on the way out of the main building, not recognizing that it was valentine's day. i looked up and saw a backhoe depositing a dorm's remains into a giant dumpster, and looked down to see Grandmother's card in my hand. with all the thanksgiving dinners and church suppers she's pulled off, i shouldn't have been surprised.
she was protective, loyal- she drew her boundaries, and woe betide the soul that trespassed onto her territory. her family was solidly under that protective banner; whoever dared to mess with one of her grandkids would live to regret it, and probably apologize for it as well. during the aforementioned hospital visit, there were at least two instances where a doctor or technician forgot their place. luckily for them, Grandmother was right there, ready and willing to point them in the right direction. she saw a need of mine and became my advocate to make sure that need was met. then she got some pound cake from the hospital cafeteria for us to share. it tasted like victory. if terrorists and tornadoes can't divert her plans, i'm not sure why a mere radiologist would expect to stand a chance.
she was generous, self-sacrificial, unassuming- the things that came out of that sewing room are legendary (or at least they should be). it's not like i ever heard people singing her praise in the streets, but every time we visited i'd hear another story of someone she helped, encouraged, or gave a handmade gift to. i don't know how many dolls she sewed dresses for, but i do know of at least a dozen barbies that boasted a very full wardrobe, including indian costumes, colonial garb, wedding dresses, play clothes, and at least one very yellow one-piece pantsuit outfit i couldn't ever figure out the purpose for. the indian and colonial clothes came with life-size duplicates for me and my sister to wear. i wish i knew her final fabric yardage count, or how many miles of thread she turned into blessings for other people.
anya and i spent hours by the christmas tree one year, performing every test possible without actually picking up the matching boxes- wondering if they could possibly contain the american girl dolls we'd asked for. they did.
at least once every school year, in addition to birthdays and holidays, we'd get a big old box from richmond. we'd find outfits, or books and toys relating to our school studies, or bags of candy we could all share each night the next potty-training kid had a successful day.
she was practical, humble, faithful- even in her generosity, she didn't waste things like time, little moments, socks. visits with her included experiences like my first plane ride, my first train ride, after-dinner bingo competitions with lifesavers as prizes, feeding the geese at the park (back before everybody learned just how bad bread is for them…oops.), and watching disney movies before bed. she'd rescue our favorite pants by making cute little patches out of unmatched socks to cover the holes. she made us eat our cottage cheese by serving it with fruit, but we knew there was always dessert. she made us go to bed at a halfway decent hour, but sometimes we could sleep downstairs under the dining table (back before the time i woke up once and saw the scariest face of all history that is carved into that chair in the living room; no offense to the chair or its maker, but it's downright creepy). she knew wax paper was just what you needed to make gumdrop cookies. she also knew wax paper was perfect for making kids go airborne as they shoot off the huge metal slide at the playground (back before everybody realized kids were fragile and helpless and eliminated all the good playground equipment). she made time for us, and she didn't waste it. every little interaction has the opportunity to be a positive or negative experience. she did her best to make them all positive.
it's because of a life like this- filled to the brim with an active multi-faceted love- that Grandmother earns a spot among the elite. if she's not the best, she at least ranks with the finalists. i won't know til i get there what she's doing up in heaven now, but i can't help but assume her life up there is only a fuller and brighter expression of these, and many other, qualities that composed her life down here. i'm convinced she's up there making sure the whole Second Coming celebration goes without a hitch. every saint's robe is going to fit perfectly- maybe trimmed with ribbon… or a sock…- and every course of the feast will be worth another song of praise to the Savior she served daily. and it's a life i want to emulate- one deserving of the highest compliment a human could dream of: "well done, good and faithful servant. you have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. enter into the joy of your Master."
