(My grandmother, known affectionately to all of us as Granny, passed away early Saturday morning at the age of 90. Her funeral was today. I wrote this in her memory.)
Yes, it is impossible to remember Granny without thinking of food. My personal favorite was her biscuits, but her butter beans were a close second. From the wonderful aromas that always seemed to hang in the air to the familiar clang of cast iron skillets, her house was the epitome of Southern hospitality.
The cousins were usually there as well, which meant we kids would be getting little sleep. One of my fondest memories was staying up late watching Papaw's silent home movies. Who needed popcorn? Granny always made enough fried okra to feed an army.
But more than what she did, I will remember who she was. Granny was a calm, gentle, tenderhearted lady with a subtle smile who was always quick with a witty remark. She took life in stride, and never seemed to let anything get her down. Through good times and bad, I will always remember that resilience. Most of all, she passed those qualities on to my mother, and for that I am eternally grateful.
It is never easy to lose someone you love, but with every heartache comes a reminder of the hope that lies ahead. We know that right now she is no longer suffering. Every hardship she has had to endure in this mortal realm has given way to eternal peace and happiness in the presence of God.
That, my friends, is the hope all of us share as believers in Christ. Those of us left behind can't even begin to ponder the joys that await us beyond the grave, but we do know that it will be well worth the wait. And if you think being greeted by adoring grandparents at the end of a road trip is exciting, just imagine what Granny must be feeling, finishing her 90-year journey through life to be welcomed into the loving arms of our Lord and Savior!