I have to be honest. When my parent’s first told me that Grandma Vi had past, I found joy. I was joyful because I knew where she was going. To be with Jesus. It was that fact that I pondered upon. I know that we will all miss Grandma Vi, but as Paul wrote in his second letter to the Corinthians “Therefore we are always confident, knowing that, whilst we are at home in the body, we are absent from the Lord: For we walk by faith, not by sight: We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord. Wherefore we labour, that, whether present or absent, we may be accepted of him.”
I know that God the Father will accept Grandma Vi. Not because she was part of the quilting club. Not because she fed the homeless. Not because she attended a church service every Sunday. These are not the things that will make her acceptable to God. Only Jesus can do that. It was His blood, and His blood only that washed away her sins so that she could be with our Father in heaven. As Jesus said in the gospel of John “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me.” Even the apostle Paul wrote to the Ephesians “For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, lest any man should boast.”
Grandma Vi believed in Jesus. She believed that He was the Son of God, that He died on the cross for the remission of sins, and then was raised again on the third day. She believed that “God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” John 3:16.
Isn’t that wonderful! We are all here to celebrate the life of Grandma Vi. But, according to the truth of Scripture, she is still alive! She may be absent from us, but she is present with the Lord! She has everlasting life!
Although I’m going to reflect on the memories of her life on earth, her life in heaven is only just beginning. Halleluiah!
There are so many wonderful memories I have of my Grandma, it’s hard to know where to start. One of my first memories is sitting in her rocking chair with her, sucking my thumb and holding my blanket while she “patted and shooshoo’ed me.” She’d rock back and forth in her chair gently patting my back as she softly said, “shoo shoo shoo.”
Another fond memory that her and I shared was baking at her house. Before I was tall enough to reach the counters she’d have a card table out in her tiny little kitchen so that I could help her bake. She let me do everything from measure to mix as long as I had my hair net on.
When I got a bit older, she taught me how to do more complex things like knit and quilt. It must have taken a lot of patience to teach a 7 year old to knit. That was my Grandma.
As a child, I would spend the night at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. I remember waking up before Grandma and Grandpa would tell me to go climb in bed with her. I’d step out of the bed onto the creaky wood floor and tip toe into her bedroom. I’d slowly open the door and climb into her bed. Of course she’d wake up immediately. We’d stay there for a few moments before she got up and made Finnish pancakes. I was allowed to eat as many as I wanted.
Even as I got older, and I’m sure my brothers will agree, I still enjoyed spending time with Grandma. Although I got too big to be patted and shooshoo’ed she would still comfort me with hugs and kisses. I knew that if I ever needed anything I could call Grandma and she wouldn’t even think twice. Whenever I’d call her on the phone she’d say, “Is this my favorite granddaughter?” or “Aw, Tooter!”
And she never lost her sense of humor. The last time I saw her I asked her how she was feeling. Her reply? “With my fingers.”
There are so many wonderful memories that I have of Grandma Vi, but the one that I am picturing now is her standing on the front porch waving goodbye as we drove away from her house. This time though, she’s no longer alone. My Grandpa is on one side and Jesus is on the other.
