I thought I had realized what that meant. However, it wasn't until just after Christmas last year that it truly found meaning for me. This time last year, I was visiting my grandmother in the hospital. She had been living for the last few years in a nursing care facility/assisted living, but now, her health had taken a downward spiral, and the once tough little lady that used to bounce back from hospital stays just didn't have the strength to do so any longer. I went to see her a few times while she was there, once just after a Christmas dinner at church. She was awake and we briefly spoke. She was alert and enjoyed hearing about the dinner. She was tired, though, and would drift off to sleep in the middle of our conversation. She roused one more time, we said our "I love yous" and I headed out. I held it together until I was inside the elevator. Once the doors slid shut, I cried. Something inside made me know that would probably be the last conversation I had with her. I could sense that things were coming to an end, at least an earthly end.
My grandmother, my Bubba, loved Jesus. Yes, I said Bubba. Some people have Nana's and Mimi's and Memaw's...I had a Bubba! It's a southern thing. And my Bubba loved the Lord with all her heart! She wasn't a perfect human being. If you can find one, let me know, will you? But she wanted to serve the Lord and lead her family to do the same. My Pop passed away in 1979. I'm not sure what kind of spiritual leader he was, though. I was only eight when he passed, and his job as a truck driver kept him on the road alot. I didn't have the time to really get to know him well. However, I do remember going to church with he and my Bubba. I remember going to the Albany Gospel Chapel and then eating at Red Lobster afterwards. I remember sitting in his lap at their home and eating peaches. But it is my grandmother that I remember being the one to talk to me about Jesus.
It was to their house that I came home from the hospital after I was born. My father was in the Air Force and out of the State, and my mother had moved back in with them. I spent the first three years of my life with their home as mine. Things grew tense between my father and mother and they soon divorced. I think I only saw my father on a couple of occasions, but because he had been absent, I was shy, kind of scared of him, it was like meeting a stranger. (On a brighter note, I now have a wonderful and growing relationship with him! God is good!). As a result, my Bubba stepped in and did everything she could to make certain I had a solid foundation with the Lord. She made sure I was at church every Sunday and that I learned to say my prayers. She did it by example, taking the time each night to pray with me. Even after my mom remarried and we moved out, any time I would go on overnight visits to Bubba's she would end the evening by praying with me. She would also sing. We would lay there and sing hymns and songs I had learned at church. One of her favorites went like, "He paid a debt He did not owe, I owed a debt I could not pay, I needed someone to wash my sins away...and now I sing a brand new song, Amazing Grace the whole day long, Christ Jesus paid the debt that I could never pay." I can hear her sing it, even now. She wasn't a great singer, but a believing one! She sang from her heart. It was always a special time to lay there and sing praises with her. And then she would read the Bible. I often fell asleep listening to her read from the scriptures. As I grew older, she still sang and read the Bible to me. It wasn't until I became an older teen and finally a college student that our night time tradition began to phase out of my evening routine. Not out of my life, mind you. It was firmly planted in me, but just not doing it with her any longer. I would lie in bed, though, and still listen to her pray in her own bedroom. She covered everyone in the family! These would not be, "God bless Jackie, God bless Rachel, God bless Sue," kind of prayers, though. She started with her children and would pray specifically for them, even if she didn't know a specific need at the time, her prayer was unique for that child. Then she would move on to the grandchildren. Each grandchild and her family were prayed over. She prayed about health, babies, and salvation. And I would fall asleep, listening to her just about each night, as I had moved back in with her while attending college.
A few years later, I would marry...and a few months after that, so would she! I can not tell you how delighted I was that God provided someone for her in her old age to be with her as I moved out. My greatest fear in getting married was leaving her alone. But the December after my own wedding, she married an old hometown friend. It would be her first church wedding (she and my Pop eloped!). Grandaddy, as we soon called her new husband, Everette, was a perfect match for her and took care of her...until his own passing in December 2004. She once again lived on her own a while longer, but it was difficult. Macular degeneration had taken most of her eyesight. Her health began declining. And then came the hard decision of moving her to an assisted living home. We didn't have an extra bedroom, and my mother's home only had one staircase, a spiral metal staircase. All the bedrooms were upstairs and it would be too hard for my grandmother to climb up and down. Over the past few years, her trips to the hospital became more frequent. She was finally moved into a nursing facility close to my home, in fact, it was adjacent to our subdivision. I was able to see her more and take the children over. But her health just wouldn't bounce back as it had before. She seemed pretty strong there for a while, even for being over 90 years of age. Yet, suddenly, her body grew tired, and her Lord said, "It's time."
Her last days in the hospital were hard to watch. She moaned alot and it was rhythmic. One night, I came to see her and she was alone. My mom had just left only minutes before, so I had some time to spend with her privately. I opened the drawer in the stand by her bed and took out the Gideon Bible hidden there. I began reading to her from the Psalms. Her breathing seemed to soften, relax a little, and the moaning quieted. I continued to read. I went to Revelation and read to her John's description of what he saw of Heaven. "Oh, Bubba....it's going to be so beautiful! Just rest, go to sleep, and go Home! It's okay. We're okay. Your children know the Lord, and your children's children know the Lord. It's okay."
And then it happened. The memories from my childhood of laying in bed with her, praying, reading, and singing. I relived every moment standing right there by her hospital bed. I took her withered hand and just rubbed it softly. In the quietness, I began to sing. "Jesus loves me this I know....for the Bible tells me so...." She became more alert and opened her eyes and listened. When I came to the chorus, she began singing, as loud as her lungs would let her, "Yes, Jesus loves me! Yes, Jesus loves me! Yes, Jesus loves me! for the Bible tells me so." Then she spoke. "Jesus always loves you. He always loves you. Jesus always loves you."
"I know..." I whispered, through the tears. Then we sang some more and had to include the song she liked so much, He Paid a Debt. It was then that I knew the time in my life with my Bubba had come full circle. My little life began at her home and she read the Bible to me, prayed with me, and sang to me. Now, her well lived, 93 year old earthly life was coming to an end...it was my turn to read, and pray, and sing to her, with her. Needless to say, it was a bittersweet, rather beautiful night.
By the next day, she was moaning again, and not really talking at all. The doctor said they could do no more, and she was moved back to the nursing facility to wait. It was New Year's Day. I rode my bicycle over to the home and stayed with her that morning, listening to her moan, and playing her favorite on the cd player - Elvis. The gospel songs, of course! I let my oldest son come see her, even though I knew it would be difficult. Mama arrived and followed him home and returned. "It's going to be raining, soon. You might want to ride your bike home and get your van." I had been there hours already and agreed. My younger sister arrived and I hugged her on the way out. 'I'll be right back. I'm just going to grab a bite to eat." Twenty minutes later, I was heading back to the nursing home as it began to rain, just about to turn into the driveway when my phone rang. I knew. The minute it rang, I knew. "Hey," my sister began through quiet tears, "she just passed." I parked and headed in. For just a brief moment I was almost mad at myself for leaving. I knew I couldn't do that to myself, though. In light of eternity, seeing her pass away was not as much of a priority as seeing her again will be! For, I will see her again! She made certain of that! Her relentless prayers for me (for us all, dear family) had come to fruition and because I have placed my trust in Jesus as my Lord and Savior, then I will see my beloved grandmother again, when we live together in Heaven! Still, I miss her. This year has had many firsts. First birthdays without her there, first Thanksgiving without her saying, "Ooh, I'm full! I can't eat another bite." And then she'd go on to eat a second helping! My second born, Braveheart the Wild, gave his heart to the Lord this year. I immediately wanted to call her, and cried when I couldn't. Nevertheless, I'm sure she knows. And now, our first Christmas without her. I miss my Bubba.
I missed her last breath. But I sang with her her last song......... here! Full circle. Full heart. I love you, Bubba! I can't wait to see you again....and sing with you once more.
