A week ago my husband's grandmother died. For more than ten years our family has been visiting her. Every Christmas it was something our children always cherished. She was a most unique, colorful, loving, independent woman.
At 93 she was still living on her own, driving herself around, caring for her home out in the middle of nowhere, Texas. Stepping into her home was like a time warp. Suddenly you were steeped in the 1970's. This last Christmas she seemed a little more frail than usual, but still strong, still fiercely independent. Which is why her death was something of a surprise.
She lived a good life, on her own terms. Death came swiftly. There wasn't lingering illness and pain.
In my church we believe there is life after death. When our spirits leave our bodies we go to a place where we can await the resurrection, and in the case of some, share the teachings of Christ with others in the spirit rhelm.
During the funeral I was completely at peace. I even felt joy. I knew without a doubt she had been reunited with her beloved husband. I know she is happy.
My faith brings me peace. Find faith and you will always have hope.
Grandma was buried in a pink coffin sealed in a crypt with a sparkling bright pink cover. She will ever be vibrant in my memory until the day when we will meet again.
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