This past summer I had the privilege of taking care of my Grandma for several days.  Her regular caregiver, my Wonderful Cousin, wanted to go on a well earned vacation to visit her sister.  Finding someone to take care of Grandma is usually not difficult as three of Grandma’s daughters have been registered nurses.  This summer though, the way the plans fell, was void of available family nurses.  After much consultation with Grandma, and said nurses, it was decided that I would do just as well.  I jumped at the chance to spend time with Grandma and to get a better look at her daily life. 

My Grandma can barely walk anymore, on good days using a walker for very short distances, and on bad days using her wheelchair.  She still lives at home, thanks to my Wonderful Cousin who lives with her.  This is where Grandma is happiest, having many memories of her life in that house.  Grandma had ten children, adopted one, and has had somewhere around one hundred foster children live in that house. 

Christmas at Grandma’s was always fun.  I had numerous cousins, and we never knew what assortment of foster children would be with us that year.  Most of my fondest childhood memories take place in that house, with my Grandma the center of the family universe.  Her quiet faith filled every space of that house. 

During my time there, Grandma decided she would like to go through some cupboards and remind herself of what was in them.  I would go retrieve the boxes out of the cupboards, and bring them to her.  They were filled with photos and old letters.  It took us three days to get through them all.  Every now and then, Grandma would ask, “Do you have this one?  No?  Take it.”  I came away with quite a treasure trove of Grandma’s memories.  Pictures of my Papafather as a little boy, poems written by my Grandma, and the history that came with everything we looked at and discussed. 

My Grandma was always so strong, and to see her at this season of life has been somewhat hard for me.  Not because I am afraid of old age, but because I know that all too soon, she will not be with us on earth much longer.  For now, she is like a little girl, taking delight in all that the Lord has blessed her with .  When I am her age, and housebound I want to be as joyful as she is.  So many elderly people become bitter and angry because they can no longer do the activities their bodies allowed them to do in younger days.  Grandma seems to take this time as a chance to finally sit and observe the world, and let life come to her, instead of chasing after it. 

One night I helped Grandma to the bathroom, and moved her to her bedroom, changed her clothes to her nightgown, and tucked her in.  As I looked down at her, the covers up to her chin, and her head upon her pillow, she looked so very small.  I asked her teasingly, “Grandma, do you want me to read you a bedtime story?”  She giggled, and replied, “No my dear, I don’t need one.”  I looked at her for a moment, taking everything about her in, and finally kissed her goodnight and went out the door. 

Grandma served Jesus in every possible way she knew how while her body was strong.  The only thing she has left to offer him, is her prayers and love, that she shares with anyone willing to take the time to come to Grandma’s house.  When I am old I shall not wear purple.  I want to wear the countenance of my Grandma.