|My grandparents and I on my 1st birthday|
My grandmother died quite a few years ago, a month before I turned 13. She has been with Jesus for awhile now, and the sadness of missing her has mellowed into sweet memories. I still remember her smile, her voice. Eating toast with strawberry jam. Roast beef with mashed potatoes, carrots, and creamed corn after church on Sunday. How she used to pinch my brother's cheek and grin and call him her "boyfriend." The way my dad's loud sneezes would always startle her and make her jump.
It wasn't until later in the day that I realized something: today marks 100 years since my grandma was born. One. Hundred. Years. I wonder what the weather was like, what the birth was like. What life was like for their family. I wonder if her parents chose her name, Viola Pearl, after much discussion,,, or if the decision was simple, as they sometimes are.
I wish I had known her longer, into my adult years. I wish she could have met my husband, my children.
But she will someday. Maybe she's been privy to the events of my life from her everlasting home in heaven...or maybe we'll simply have a lot to catch up on once I get there.
Regardless, here's a Happy 100th Birthday to you, Grandma. Enjoy your celebration; I'm sure the parties up there are absolutely breathtaking!
Until we meet again,