The Eulogy

Flowers. All Nana said she wanted on the day we lay her to rest was a room adorned with plentiful, beautiful flowers. All through the years I remember her dining room table decor which alerted visitors to the season. In May, spring flowers would burst with pinks and purples on the porch and in the kitchen. In December, the velvety leaves of the crimson Poinsettia spread warmth to our hearts. Nana always appreciated the natural, simple beauty of flowers. Appreciating the little things was her inherent gift, which in the long run blossomed into an ease of gratitude for bigger things.

Cups of coffee shared with friends, with spoonfuls saved especially for her toddler grandchildren. So much so that one of my first words was coffee, all because grandma insisted on sharing her joy of the little things.

Our family routinely went to Gundi’s, a local German family restaurant in our small hometown, every Sunday morning for decades. Sitting in the old 60’s style restaurant, with vibrant red table cloths lining each table, I spent some of the most cherished moments of my life. Laughs shared with transient family and friends were nice, but at Gundi’s on those Sunday mornings was always my comfort, my joy - in Nana.

My favorite memories were of golfing - spending time with Nana and her three best friends, Becky, Vivian, and Sherry. After Becky passed, Nana, Vivian, Sherry, and I would hit the golf course at 8:30am sharp on Saturday mornings. I learned to drive because Nana allowed me to learn on the golf carts, despite my lead foot and profound need for speed. From hole to hole we would bounce along, with Nana looking, at times, almost carsick. Yet, she endured.

After golf we would get lunch around 10:45am, and the ladies would commence with questions. How was school? How’s your mother? Until the questions would peter out and the gossip would begin. Almost always harmless, they’d share about their husbands, acquaintances, children, and new clothes. Oh, the new clothes! Nana loved a good blouse. With a few quips about the coffee being cold, they’d summon the waitress by playfully clanking their cups, (always leaving a nice tip), signalling the nearing end of our fun. These were the Saturdays I longed for in my teens; and we always ended our visits by sharing a slice of pie.

Nana would’ve loved to have been remembered as a contemporary Christian woman, whose class and beauty rivaled that of the Queen of England. And though she absolutely embodied each of those things, I want to remember her in a richer way.

My grandmother was extraordinarily witty, and quite unknowingly comedic. She could make an entire table laugh with a gesture or a tone. Her smile was infectious and welcoming.

Despite her apprehension to show affection due to the time period in which she was raised, she did her best to let you know you were loved in the ways she felt appropriate. She often cooked for her guests, or had all their favorite snacks stocked in the kitchen, waiting to greet them at any time. Her door was always open. There was never a day that I can recall that she didn’t tell me she loved me, whether in person or on the phone. Although warm wouldn’t be an adjective I’d reach for in discussing her personality, I would say she was piercingly sincere, which meant that when she said something to you its meaning could be either elating or devastating. Hearing her say, “I love you, hon,” will be one of the things about her departure that I miss most.

She was also very forgiving, never holding a true grudge against anyone, which I deeply admire. I whole-heartedly believe she lived her life as Christ-like as one can on this planet. More than anything, she was courageous and resilient. The dark times in her life never overcame her, and she remained optimistic throughout. In her later years, she would imbue me with this wisdom, always humbly, as though she really didn’t think she had anything figured out - but ultimately wanted to share the bits and pieces that she was confident enough rang true. In some ways, she was the wisest person I’ve yet known.

Ann was a mother, a daughter, a sister, a wife, a teacher, a friend, a Christian, a surrogate parent - but more than that, my grandmother was a true guardian angel. Now that she has embarked on a new journey, I hope she will continue to be my angel in the beyond, because I do not know how I will get along without her in my life. May she wholly rest in peace knowing that she was truly loved, cherished, and adored by us all.