Goodbye, Mammaw.

Why?

I struggle with Uggs left everywhere in the house, dirty dishes left on the counter, and the magnitude of laundry generated each week. But this day I care less.

I have lost my grandmother. She took me to church. She made cornbread salad. She worried. She collected Precious Moments figurines. She led a family one which often refused to listen. She remained. She was always there. Until today.

This past week has been busy. The office. My girls. Life. And. My grandmother’s closing. Energy; usually spent on trivial things, required. Today I witnessed her soft passing into a world unknown. A peaceful commute. Surrounded by family I witnessed agonal breathing slow. I watched family members grieve and say good bye each in their own way. What an incredible time.

I received a call from my Mom while in Sunday School. We are studying Romans. She wanted the number to the pharmacist to see if he would come in to fill another prescription. It was Sunday, when I arrived a frenzy was in the air. Anxiousness. Grief. Struggle. But not today. Today would be a celebration. Yes. My grandmother would die. She would leave this world forever. There was no way this would be a sad day. And, my guitar was in the car.

I sat down in the same room she and my grandfather shared for so many years, the room where I watched her dog “Teenie” pass so long ago, the room where she would scold late in the night my cousin and I for being too loud and the room which would be the last she would visit. I sat and I played. I am not a singer. I am not really a guitar player but I played.

I played for my grandmother. I sang for her last few minutes. I praised. My God. I praise.

When my fingers were sore I stopped. Surrounded by family she worked to breathe. She worked to allow. She granted each of us time to say the things. She allowed us to pray. She in all her grace pulled us close. She forced a remembrance of events long ago. And shortly after the amen, a few breathes followed by peace.

I unfortunately have seen a few deaths in my life. None have been so peaceful. Perhaps it was the morphine,  perhaps the love in the room, or perhaps it was because she knew she had lived a complete life and she was ready to go home. At some point in the future I will receive the answer. Good bye, Mammaw.