I went to a funeral today.

My good friend and college roommate, Karen, lost her grandmother.  Karen's "Mamaw" had lived a long and happy life of 90 years and, even though she'd lived well past the time that most people are allotted and even though everyone knew that she was with Jesus, there were still tears.  I recognized those tears.  They were the tears that come from losing a treasure. There's just something about saying goodbye to your grandmother.  Something that will bring even the toughest and burliest to weep. 

I remember when Karen and I were younger, we'd drop by her Mamaw's house and visit.  She lived in the typical southern grandma house.  I guess I liked it there because it felt a lot like my own grandmothers' houses.  Grandmothers, these days, seem to be a little slower to age and a bit more up to date with their texting and Facebook accounts.  But, if you're around my age or older and from the South, well, our grandmothers were of a different sort and, typically, most were cut from the same pattern....with a few variations here and there.

Grandmother, Granny, Grandma, MeMaw, MaMaw, Nana, MiMi, Gran, Mammie, GanGan, Grammy, Nanny, MawMaw, and a thousand other names.  Whatever you called them, they likely lived in a simple brick home or wood frame house.  There was a screen door that slammed shut when you ran outside.  The floors likely creaked and the house had a comforting smell......kind of like pound cake, bacon, aged wood, fireplace ashes, and moth balls all rolled into one.  There was probably some linoleum on the kitchen floor and a dish towel with a crochet top buttoned around the oven door handle.  I'd be willing to bet there was a giant console television set in the living room with a pair of matching corduroy recliners somewhere in there, too.  There was likely some needlepoint on the walls, a hallway full of wedding and graduation portraits, beautiful china displayed in the china cabinet, and a fresh, crisp tablecloth spread over the table each day.  A cake dome always housed a cake of some kind.  The heaters may have been on the walls and the air conditioners in the windows.  There was probably a porch on the front or back of the house where there was a swing or some rockers.  Either way, it was the place to sit and shell peas or just to visit and wave at the cars that passed by.  There were big trees in the yard that were perfect for climbing and an old clothesline with shirts flapping in the wind.  There was most likely a garden patch somewhere on the property or, at least, some tomato plants necessary for summer sandwiches with Sunbeam bread and Blue Plate mayonnaise, of course.  There may have been some cows or chickens......maybe a barn......a lot of stuff you didn't have at your own house.  Parked under the carport was probably a grandmother-ish car with vinyl seats ......not near as sleek and sophisticated and today's SUV grandmothers.  It was a place that was usually a step or two behind your own house when it came to technology and whatnot but, somehow, it was still your favorite place on earth to be.        

Old southern grandmas wore a lot of elastic waist polyester pants with starched coordinating floral tops and usually footwear was from the SAS collection.  Pantyhose were worn daily except on the days when knees highs could serve as a suitable substitute.  When you hugged them, they smelled of Chantilly perfume or White Shoulders dusting powder mixed with Aqua Net.  They had their standing hair appointments on Fridays to get them ready for church on Sunday.  They always got up early enough to make biscuits for breakfast and put a roast in the oven before heading out to Sunday school.  Grandmothers always had Wrigley's chewing gum and lots of change in their purses.  They had a big King James Bible- large print edition, a basket of brush rollers with picks, and a wallet full of school pictures.  Our grandmas never missed prayer meeting or a chance to make pear salad.  They liked talking about their azalea bushes and clipping camellia blooms to bring inside.  They always met us at the door with a hug, enjoyed cooking for their families and, most of all, they faithfully prayed for us.  Every day.
                
I think that was the dearest thing that stuck with me from today.......when Karen's dad told how, each night, after they'd helped "Mamaw" into bed at their home, they would hear her in her room praying.  Praying out loud......alone in her room......for each person in her family.  Sometimes, for an hour or so.  Talking to God about specific needs that family members had.  How beautiful is that.  A grandmother who couldn't physically do for her family anymore but she could still talk to her Savior about them.

I went to a funeral today. 

Another sweet, little, southern Mamaw has gone to be with Jesus.

What a beautiful treasure they all were. 



Do something today that would make your Mimi/Granny/Nana/MawMaw/GanGan proud.