Today something I miss is a someone, actually two someones. My grandmothers. My Mama's mom, I called her Granny. I am named after her. Her name was Johnie Thelma and she was called Thelma. When I was born my Mama told my brother they would have to call my grandmother Granny instead of Granny Thelma, because my name was Thelma. He was two. He told her to call me Granny! LOL. My Granny was one of the best prayer warriors I have ever known. When we spent the night she would read from the Bible and the Word would come ALIVE. It was the way she read it. Her prayers were the same. I often would open my eyes and peek just to see if Jesus was actually standing in our presence because not only did she talk to Him as you would your best friend; her prayers brought the presence of God into the room. You could feel His presence when she prayed and I knew that I was in the presence of God when she prayed. She had faith that would move mountains. She loved with all her heart and she was so kind. I lost her to cancer when I was 9. I still remember the last time I saw her eyes filled with love and the sorrow of having to say goodbye. The ambulance took her away that day and I watched as it left until it faded into the distance. Back in that day, your loved one was brought home in the casket and sat in your front room while people came to pay their respects. The day she came home from the funeral home....I threw the door open wide "Granny is here, Granny is here". A well meaning Aunt pulled me back and said...HUSH get out of the way. My mother stepped forward and told her "leave her alone, this is the last time she will welcome her Granny home and I don't care who it bothers". That meant the world to me. I remember her blush pink casket and the white satin where she lay. I remember people saying how "good" she looked and I was confused. She didn't look good to me, she looked gone and cold and absent and I stood willing her to breath. I said goodbye but my Granny never left me. She left a permanent imprint upon my life. If, I can be half the woman my Granny was, I will be proud.
My Dad's Mom, was Grandma Lois. Her middle name was Inez which is also my middle name. I had my Grandma Lois until I was in my 20s. Oh how I loved her. She would walk her garden singing to her Savior, One day at a time, sweet Jesus...............oh I can still hear her in my mind. Her voice a bit quavery from the aging process but oh so sweet filled with love. She loved me and she taught me about canning fruit and vegetables. She taught me about sewing and gardening. She taught me about cooking and love. Her house always smelled of tea cake, fried chicken and biscuits. You never left her home hungry. She was our biggest defender if we were in trouble with our parents, and told them relax, they will be grown soon enough, let them be kids. However, she did not tolerate disobedience or disrespect. She never ever had to punish me. It took just one word and I corrected my ways. I also lost her to cancer. I remember the last time I saw her, my sister was brushing her beautiful silver hair and we kissed her goodnight. We had to go home and were coming back after church the next day. Early that Sunday morning we got the call that she had slipped quietly and peacefully into eternity with a smile on her face and a gentle sigh.
Both of my grandmothers had such an impact on my life that I know without a doubt they are partially responsible for my faith in Christ today. They are the reason I know Jesus can be your best friend and oh how I miss them. I wouldn't want them to suffer but oh, how they would love my children.
