Grandma, her's was my second home. I well remember riding my bike the several miles to where I would spend the day trudging between my cousin's home and Grandma's. In the backyard there was an old wooden table where Grandma kept her empty flower pots of all sizes. It seems like just a few days ago when Brandon and I would stand at that old table and mix up the very best mud soup, and you couldn't find any better mud cookies and cakes in the whole neighborhood! Grandma never seemed to mind the brown coating left on her pots. Grandma loved us grandchildren. She only had three—two boys and a girl (yes, I was the only girl!). She made sure to include us in her life. Whether it was teaching us how to fill frames at their custom picture framing shop or drying flowers for the cards that she loved to make, she enjoyed having us by her side. I’ll never forget the time her and I went through her rock garden searching for snails. There was an endless supply of them it seemed. When Grandma got one she would put it on the rocks and smash it with her finger. I wasn’t so tough as to endure the slim and guts oozing through my fingers so I used another rock to do the extermination. We spent hours doing this, but you know, there was never again such an abundant infestation of snails. There was an extra room in Grandma’s house, which I was sure belonged to her three grandchildren. She had a bookcase with old children's books in there and a few toys. We always kept it in order, Grandma wouldn't have it any other way. There were certain boundaries you just didn't cross with Grandma. I only remember once when I mumbled under my breath a disrespectful remark. Grandma never moved so fast. Before I could blink, it seemed, she spun my chair around and looked me square in the face. I never crossed the line again. You could always count on there being cereal and rice or soy milk or fruit juice for breakfast at Grandma's. And you always used a placemat at the table. Grandma was a perfectionist, an amazing artist, and very particular. And yet I never felt like I wasn't good enough or like the expectations were too high. The love she poured into those around her may have made the difference. She was a tough woman yet always ready to tenderly put her hand on yours or wrap you in her arms. You knew she loved having you around. Her words of appreciation flowed freely. "I'm so glad you're here," she would say. "Thank you for spending time with me." Out of all my grandparents, Grandma Kathleen was the one I spent the most time with and was the closest to. When I was 12 Grandma signed me up for a watercolor class, or maybe she got special permission to bring me along. This wasn't a children's get together. This was a class with the Arizona Watercolor Association. Many of those attending were outstanding, professional artists, my grandma included. I was the only child there. It was an amazing opportunity in my young life. On occasion when I was at Grandma's she would let me in the forbidden room. It was kind of like her office where she had all her art supplies. I remember passing the hours there with her as we both sketched and painted little mailboxes or made cards with the great assortment of pressed flowers she had personally gathered and dried. She loved nature and natural beauty. Her yard always had a great variety of flowers—foxgloves, hollyhocks, irises, etc. The ornamental poppies were one of her favorites. The seeds were from her own mother and every year they spread freely. In her paintings Grandma almost always included one of God’s creatures—a bee, a turtle, a hummingbird. She loved the things of nature. She also loved God. The back of her car always had a book or pamphlet that she could give away if the opportunity presented itself. I’m sure she gave out hundreds of pieces of literature through the years. She wasn’t shy about sharing her faith. She was the only one of my grandparents who was a Christian and if it had not been for her commitment I wouldn't be a Seventh-day Adventist today. I owe so much to her countless prayers and dedication. When my grandparents met, Grandpa started going to church after he was told he couldn't marry Grandma because he wasn't a Christian. But a year after the wedding he never went back to church. Grandma kept going and prayed for him every day, for 64 years. With tears in her eyes she would tell us grandchildren to pray for Grandpa too. She loved him so much. Another thing about Grandma was that she was so optimistic. Yes, she had her moments; yes, she wasn't always easy to deal with, but she was not a gloomy person. All her life she lived with pain and the last 15 years were especially intense after a failed back surgery. But when asked how she was doing, her usual sunny reply was, "Oh great!" or at the least, with a smile, "I'm doing fine." She wasn’t a big talker. When we would occasionally speak on the phone she would ask how I was doing and then say in her cheerful way, “You sound so good!” Our conversations never lasted more than 5 minutes, they didn’t need to. She knew I was well and happy, I knew she loved me. Grandma was such a strong woman. By many she wouldn’t have been classified as the most beautiful, outgoing, or talented. But she was dedicated, hardworking, optimistic, focused, loving. She was a real woman. She gave me the inheritance of family, the love of natural beauty, an appreciation of time and little things, the example of a committed long-lasting marriage, and most of all a love for God and others. With such an inheritance I am rich, rich in the things that matter most. At last Grandma is at rest. No more work for her to do, no more pain wracks her body, no more tears fall from her cheeks, no more questions crowd her mind, no more disappointments burden her heart, she is at rest, asleep in Jesus (John 11:11-14; Psalm 146:4; Ecclesiastes 9:5). I will miss her but I am thankful for her life and that now she can rest until her Savior comes to take her from the grave to her heavenly home where there will only be joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing will flee away (1 Thessalonians 4:16-17; Isaiah 35:10). Sweet Jesus, thank You for this hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13).
3 Comments
CONNIE KENT
11/10/2017 03:12:52 am
Our sincerest sympathy goes out to each of you at this time! A life well lived and some very special people she left behind! I am so glad I had the opportunity to meet each of you and recognize the jewels she created! Keep looking up, Jesus is coming soon! Love you!
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Teresa Kodimer
11/10/2017 05:59:42 am
A precious mother and grandmother and soon to be a great grandmother but will not see that great grandchild this side of eternity. Love, in the truest sense of the word, is truly the word that sums up my mother. Love and DUTY is the sum of who she was.. Mother wanted a clean home, inside and out. I will always remember waiting for mom to finish cleaning everything in the home before a trip so that when we returned it would be clean for us. Even to her old age she desired everything in its place, clean and neat. She loved God and desired for her family to know and love Him too! When we were young she would not let us stay home from church because we didn't want to go. She was faithful to have us sit as a family in the church service and listen to the sermon. It was all about love most of all and we felt that love through all the disciplines of life.
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Yvette Wellborn
11/13/2017 03:57:50 pm
Kathleen was a special lady. A lot of memories working with John & Kathleen and the family. Great family, and sorry for your loss iof your mother. Never easy to say goodbye for now. I’ll think of her, as I too love the hollyhocks like she.
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SolominaEverything in life has meaning. There's a lesson in every object, every situation, every process. I want to go deeper, in a higher way. I want to listen, to understand, to know. Archives
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