Last Friday, my great-grandmother—Granny—passed
onto Glory. She was 96-years-old,
and she had lived a long, beautiful life.
Her funeral was the following Monday, and I am grateful that we were
able to move my flight to Peru so that I could be home for the funeral. Over that weekend and during the
funeral, I thought of the song we used to sing, “Where Joy and Sorrow
Meet”. We cried a lot, especially
with Granddaddy, but we also laughed as wonderful family and friends surrounded
us.
In
memory of Granny, I want to post part of the eulogy Heather and I gave at the
funeral. Reflecting on our
favorite memories of Granny helped both of us to grieve the loss of Granny in
our lives, but even more so, to celebrate her life and the years we had with
her.
Me:
Granny
had a love and special gift for gardening. Beautiful zinnias, roses, and daisies greeted all who
entered their home. I can still
picture Granny hunched over in the hot sun watering her flowers and getting rid
of the weeds. She had such an
appreciation for God’s marvelous creation. Granny used to talk to the flowers in her garden too! She’d say, “Now, you better get to
blooming soon little flower, you hear?”
When she wasn’t able to get out there to garden anymore, she started in
on some solar-powered flowers in the kitchen window. If the sun was out, those flowers were flapping! She would tell us, “Little blue was
being so lazy this morning! Ol’
Red was up and moving long before the other two. Of the three, Granny would have been Ol’ Red, up and going
as soon as the sun was up (or earlier!).
She was always so full of life, love, and spunk.
More
than anything on this earth, Granny loved her family. She placed such a high importance on helping, loving, and
being with family. She often told
stories from her childhood with all of her brothers and sisters, along with her
parents whom she admired greatly.
Granny loved her husband, my Grandaddy with all of her heart and for
most of her life—77 years! They
stood together in times of plenty and in times of little, in sickness and in
health. Their marriage is an
example to all of us. When I asked
Grandaddy if there was something he’d like for me to say about Granny at her
funeral, he told me, “She was a good mother, grandmother, and great grandmother.” I couldn’t agree more.
Heather:
Sara,
Will, and I are so fortunate to have enjoyed the presence of our
great-grandparents for as long as we have. Though 24 years does not feel like enough time to have known
a woman like Janie Mae Wingard Garner, who we call Granny, I am thankful for
them. We spent many weekends, every major holiday, and many summers with her,
Grandaddy, Uncle Jimmy, and Grandmother and PaEd on their farm in Slapout.
When
I was in college, I called Granny every Sunday. She was the subject of a story I wrote in college. I want to read you one of those.
It was a Saturday morning of a weekend visit to
Granny and Granddaddy’s. “Good
morning, Granny” I exclaimed. I
reached down and gave her a hug and then sat down at the breakfast table,
eagerly expecting fried eggs over medium, buttered grits, and biscuits topped
with pear preserves.
“What do you want to drink baby?”
“Coffee is fine.”
“How did you sleep?”
“I slept better than I have in a long time.”
I
reached over to get the buttered half of a biscuit.
“You can have a whole biscuit. Will you eat a whole biscuit?”
“No, Granny.
I’m already eating a big breakfast.”
She
sighs and gives up the battle of trying to get me to eat as much as possible, a
battle she’s waged since I was born.
As a little girl, I remember Granny peering over my unfinished dinner
plate as I squinted at the television down the hall, enthralled by the loud
dialogue.
“Heather, that poor little pig gave its life for
you, better eat it up.” I would
look up into her eyes, checking if she was serious. After hesitating for a bit, I would eat the rest of my ham,
even if it was cold. Grandmother
made Granny stop doing that after the time I got sick from overeating. I’ve always reasoned that since Granny
didn’t have enough food in her early life, her biggest fear was to run out of
it. She has two freezers stocked
with peas, applesauce, beans, and creamed corn from the garden. She has to provide for all her
blackbirds.
Basically,
for me, these stories demonstrate some essential parts of Granny’s
character. First, Granny loved her
family well. She focused on
providing whatever she could for us whether that was advice, food, or even
pulling a retainer out of the trashcan.
When we were children, she did not mind getting on our level. She saved even the smallest things we
gave her like small wildflower bouquets and crayon drawings. Second, Granny spoke well. I will never forget her words. Thankfully, I wrote many of them down
like “That’s what family’s for, shugg.” and “Wash together, be friends
forever.” and calling us her “blackbirds.” When giving advice, Granny always began by “Well, the good
book says…” One of her biggest
struggles as her health declined was the fact that she could not speak very
clearly. I know in Heaven, she is
able to express all the thoughts in her head to her heavenly Father, face to
face, and be perfectly understood by Him.