One Last Gift

by Betty Baker Bailey

It would be absolutely impossible to accurately describe my Grandmother to anyone who had never had physical contact with her.  The word “unconventional” comes to mind, but even it fails to describe the extent of her extraordinary outlook on life.  Equally as difficult is explaining her ability to give gifts that benefit a lifetime.

I vividly remember my Granny coming to visit as a child.  Besides the obvious delight of having someone whose love could not be questioned, she never came empty-handed.  From much needed and loved hand-me-downs (which once included a real fur stole) to fresh fruit, she always managed to capture our hearts with her generosity.  Once she even passed out delicious honey bears for each of us.  We sat on the front porch smacking and slurping enthusiastically while she and mother visited about “adult” stuff.  To this day I value gifts of the heart far more than “trinkets”.

One of the earliest gifts I remember was an old, tattered hymnal.  She brought it with her once and I commented, like children will, about how we did not have anything like it.  She graciously gave it to me.  Hymns were and are still my favorite of all songs.  To this day I can hear her patiently guiding me as we sang one after another with great gusto, if not in key.

Though she never really had much that society would call of “value”, Granny somehow always seemed to be happy.  She had a hysterical sense of humor, laughing as much at herself as others.  She would often do very embarrassing things and then tell us about it, snickering all the while.  Part of our enjoyment revolved around the fact that she actually repeated the tale.  She embraced life unashamedly, leaving me with a rather unconventional sense of humor.  (And yes, I tell on myself regularly even when it’s embarrassing.  Better to laugh at the spectacle than pretend you’re not one!)

Early in grade school she taught me a wonderful skit to do for my class.  It revolved around searching desperately for a pair of “lost” glasses that nestled safely on top of her head.  I can still see her crawling around on hands and knees while I laughed ‘till my sides ached.  I can still hear the class roaring as I “popped” the glasses down on the bridge of my nose.  The whole experience gave my self-esteem a much needed boost that’s been carried into my very public efforts today.

Hot summer days with Granny were made for wild cactus berry juice which she dutifully gathered on her morning hike.  No one but Granny would have even given them a second glance.  Neither would anyone else have considered the wild mushrooms that grew nearby, but to Granny they were a potential delicacy not to be missed.  Always the consummate teacher, she constantly strove to teach creative thinking.  I can not tell you how many times being able to do so has literally saved my bacon.

A master of nonconformity, her gifts were not just lavished on family.  To her money was something you used not something you held onto.  She once purchased a piano for a blind girl while living largely off things she had grown in her own garden.  The girl became quite the pianist, even going so far as to make at least one album.  To Granny, the girl’s happiness made it money very well spent.  She loved everyone and gave generously to all.  I know that part of my heart for the children taken by abortion comes directly from her.

Living alone most of her life, Granny was an expert in making things work.  She could grow a garden on rock, feed a family from a “bare cupboard” and make good use of every bit of “trash” she encountered.  She was self-sufficient without being distant.  She was frugal without being stingy.  She was industrious without being demanding.  She was an independent woman in a time when such a thing was very much frowned upon, but she never let the approval of men keep her from completing her duties.  My refusal to sit down, shut up and stay out of the fight for life is directly related to the example she set.  (Interestingly, if she had of “followed the rules of the day” she would never have survived even her first week of life.  She weighed in at around 2 pounds in 1912!)

Even in her sixties, Granny would get up before us each morning and begin the tasks she considered her responsibility.  She rarely quit before we did.  She had learned early the secrets of working wisely.  She could always manage to lift things too heavy for her or fix something that was “beyond repair”.  Part of this came from living through the depression, but part of it was her desire to see the job through.  These days my mother comments on my refusal to give up in areas where many would.  My tenacity is straight from her.

As far back as I can remember, Granny read her Bible regularly.  She taught all her children, and everyone else’s too, about Biblical truths.  When I first began to have “encounters” with God, she was the one who helped me realize that it really was God speaking to me.  Her commitment to Him gave me a strong appreciation for Who He is.  Her Biblical knowledge gave me an appreciation of the importance of Scripture.  She worked harder at being faithfully obedient to share the love He had given her than in any other area of her life.  How well ingrained in me is the realization that the key to living successfully lies in the obedience to His will.

The last time I saw Granny she was old and frail.  Unable to get around easily, she walked slowly, carefully and very quietly.  My youngest was only a few months old and still very fragile.  My mother, my sister and I had traveled to visit and were staying in her home.  I turned away from my daughter for a moment and when I turned back there stood my Grandmother swaying slightly.  Arms out-stretched, she was reaching towards my tiny offspring.  A look of total love covered her face.  This epitomized Granny.  She needed me to know she loved my children as much as she had always loved me, but she also in no way wanted me to fear for my child’s safety.  She knew her physical strength was gone.  She also knew it was her love that we all cherished the most. That moment is etched on my heart forever. When my daughter is old enough, it will be pure joy to share it with her.

For the last several years Granny struggled with poor health, falling victim to strokes and infection.  She went from being the mountain climber who harvested wild berries to being bed-ridden and unable to recall who people were.  She suffered long and hard, becoming childlike and dependent.  My blessed aunt went to great trouble to take care of her; seeing to her every need and treating her with the love she had so richly earned.  All of her children, grand-children, great-grand-children and great-great-grandchildren knew she was dying.  Still, we hung on to each day; praying the inevitable would not come.

About a month ago, my Granny gave me one last gift.  Something extra special . . . like all her gifts . . . that’s better shared . . . also like all her gifts.  She came to me in my sleep looking much like she had in years previous and laughing as joyously as I had often heard her as a child.  She patted my cheek and drew me close, all the while laughing cheerfully.  I pulled back a little knowing she was gone and wanting to cry over my loss.  She laughed sweetly all the more.

“Don’t cry . . .” she urged.  “Don’t cry, Baby.  Granny is all right. Granny is all right!”

I tried.  I really did.  I had said for years that it would kill me to lose her.  I wanted to cry my eyes out; to wallow in a deep pool of self-pity, but she simply would have none of it.  She laughed and laughed and laughed . . . so joyously that before I knew it, I was laughing with her.  I awoke that morning laughing out loud; grinning from ear to ear and shaking my head in wonder.  Only Granny would have seen that need so clearly, put her own aches behind and comforted her soon to be hurting grandchild.

On May 29, 2002 after making considerable effort to physically recognize and remind her older children who were by her side that she loved them, my Granny went on to be with the Lord.  Her suffering ended, she left behind children beyond those she bore who loved her dearly.  No child was ever unwelcome in her home.  She always attempted to feed, teach and give gifts to all she could reach.  Her blood descendants included 3 children, 17 grandchildren, 34 great-grandchildren, 11 great-great-grandchildren and 4 pre-born great-great-grandchildren.  Always a staunch supporter of life, abortion was simply never considered.

Granny’s funeral was as exceptional as she had been in life.  Her son officiated.  Her oldest daughter dressed her in a glorious light blue gown and robe.  One of the oldest granddaughters soloed beautifully, “I am the Bread of Life” and “Amazing Grace”.  Her teenage great-granddaughters picked and placed a bouquet of wildflowers in her hands, her flower of choice.  Grandchildren offered prayers and read Scripture.  Instead of “Jesus Loves the Little Children”, children appropriately sang “Granny loved . . .”  All who wanted were given opportunity to partake; to share a part of her influence in their lives.  I stood to tell of the dream in hopes of imparting some small portion of her joy to the rest of the family.

Many others sang, read poetry or gave testimony.  Everyone acknowledged her love had had profound effect on all of us.  Though I could not always hold back my tears, it was impossible not to hear her joyous laughter in my heart; the kind of joy that could have only come from being in the very presence of God.  Besides comforting me, I know this is exactly what my beloved Granny wanted shared with all she loved . . . that the joy of being at home with Him far exceeds all suffering.

(Realize I don’t claim to understand how any of this could have been possible.  At the point of the dream Granny was in a semi-vegetative state, lapsing in and out of consciousness.  I do know that strange things like this have happened to me for as long as I can remember.  Perhaps it’s just another part of Granny.  I really do not know.  I do know that she had always known when we were going to lose another member of the family and would warn us in advance.  I also know from extensive experience that a significant number of my dreams come true.)