But now I see

Monday morning I got the phone call that my Granny had passed away. She was 91 years old and more than ready to go, her body and mind tired. I teared up, but smiled at the same time because I thought about all the family and friends she was seeing - and I imagined her and my Papa together again. I know the Bible says there is no marriage in heaven ... still, I know they are together, no matter the 'relationship' in their heavenly state.

I really didn't have any sorrowful reaction throughout the day. The girls and I looked through some photo albums and all found a special picture of her to put on our facebook pages. Of course looking at pictures resulted in some amusing memories of times spent with Granny & Papa and we laughed a lot as we talked about them. They always cherished time with family and were joyful, loving, fun people.

Last night after everybody had gone to bed, I remembered the first time I went to sit with Granny when she was in the hospital in Tyler several months ago. It was when I truly accepted that she was not going to 'live' ... not because they told us she was dying ... but because I acknowledged that her life was over even if all her reasons for being in the hospital could be taken care of. She was not ever going to pick peaches or work in her garden, run to the store, hem a dress, bake biscuits, walk to the mailbox or hold another great-great-grandchild. Those things were her life. I'd known for a long time that she wasn't able to do much - but she was here. I’m not naïve, but the full comprehension that being 'here' isn't ‘living’ became unquestionable when I saw her frailness up close in a hospital gown with tubes and times of incoherence. I thought about how much she would hate that someone had to feed her, her hair wasn't fixed, and she had 'cracklins' in her eyes. That afternoon as I sat with her while she slept, I cried – she wouldn’t have cared and I knew she couldn’t see me.

Last night I also remembered something my uncle told me one day when we saw each other at the hospital ... She was asleep. He had his hand on her shoulder and bent down to kiss her. She opened her eyes a second and smiled, then nodded back off. He stood back up and for some reason said, "She never got to go get her new glasses. She was so excited about those glasses."

When that seemingly trivial piece of a conversation came to mind late last night ... I cried. I really cried. Since Monday my sisters and I have talked and remembered some fun times with our grandparents; I’ve talked to Mom a few times in the last few days about plans and all … but since Granny died, there have been no tears … until I think about that pair of glasses sitting on a shelf at a doctor's office - waiting for her. She was excited about them and never got to use them here – and when I think of that, I cry.

While preparing to visit with family and go through the funeral service tomorrow, I have wondered about the glasses story – why that affected me. I’m still not exactly sure – but tonight as we left the funeral home and I looked back one last time at Granny – I heard the song in my head … the song that has been her favorite hymn for many, many years. I know it doesn’t matter that she didn’t get the glasses. She doesn’t need them now. Her vision is perfect.

Be Thou my Vision, O Lord of my heart;
Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art
Thou my best Thought, by day or by night,
Waking or sleeping, Thy presence my light.

Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;
I ever with Thee and Thou with me, Lord;
Thou my great Father, I Thy true son;
Thou in me dwelling, and I with Thee one.

Be Thou my battle Shield, Sword for the fight;
Be Thou my Dignity, Thou my Delight;
Thou my soul's Shelter, Thou my high Tower:
Raise Thou me heavenward, O Power of my power.

Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise,
Thou mine Inheritance, now and always:
Thou and Thou only, first in my heart,
High King of heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

High King of heaven, my victory won,
May I reach heaven's joys, O bright heaven's Sun!
Heart of my own heart, whatever befall,
Still be my Vision, O Ruler of all.