Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Grandma Hazel

Francis Chan has been kicking my butt lately. Every.Stinking.Time.I.Listen.To.Him. The basic equation comes out to: Way more Jesus, way less me.

In that vein, I bring up a difficult situation. My Grandma Hazel is in her last bit of life here on earth. While I'm sad, I'm not torn up. I'm not torn apart. My Grandma believes in Jesus and I think that she's ready to go see Him face to face. I did have a dream about her last night and I woke up recalling sweet memories of being a child in my Grandma's little tiny single wide trailer. I've had to bring these to the surface and remember her for them. You see, my Grandmother wasn't the best Mom to her own children and she was not always the greatest to my Mom later in her life. I didn't know this until I got older and more aware of relationships. But- and I say this with confidence, she was a fantastic Grandma to have as a kid. I think she may have sought certain redemption in us grandkids that she needed after neglecting her own children.

Let me say that my Grandma taught me an incredibly valuable lesson that I carry in my heart to this day. I had a "Jesus Loves the Little Children" book at her house. There was a picture of a little Native American boy with his bow and arrow. I get sort of foggy when I think about what I asked or how it came up, but I asked about "Indians being bad". A very black and white stereotype that I had seen on TV and cartoons. Cowboys were good. Indians were bad. My Grandma Hazel's answer is still very crystal clear to me "It doesn't matter what color skin you have, it's what's on the inside. Everyone is different. Jesus loves them all and so should we." BANG! A lesson in racism from your Grandma! It was simple, it was Christian, it was suitable for my young heart. I couldn't have been more than 5 years old. Knowing now that my Grandma only ever had a middle school edcuation at best, I know that this was her heart speaking. Not anything that had been taught to her. What a simple summation of how to love others & that it's not our job to judge people based on the outside.

Other memories:

-She would make fried Cheerios when I stayed the night. Sounds gross, but it's FANTASTIC.

- Going to church with her on the Church bus. What a treat! No normal car ride to church for me! I'll take the bus with all the Saints Alive Seniors!

-I always slept on a fold out couch at her trailer and one night she sat on the end of the bed and fell through... haha. Awesome.

-She always sent birthday cards with $1 in them.

-When she bought me my favorite teddy bear, Smokey.

-Sitting in church with her and she would slip me some communion, even though I wasn't suppose to have it. Mwahaha.

- She always had Trident gum in her purse and always made sure we got a piece.

-Going to potlucks at her trailer park. Man, it's the best to be a cute little girl with pigtails at a trailer park pot luck and get all the attention from all the other Grandmas!

-When I got my driver's license I would drive her to hair appointments and to lunch dates.

I know that my Grandma was an incredibly flawed person who let her demons and desires get in the way of being the person God wanted her to be. I also know that she did love Jesus. I am glad she was my Grandma. She loved me and I loved her. Someday when we're all in heaven together, maybe she'll make fried Cheerios for me and Jesus.

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