My family said their farewells to my grandma yesterday. I was honored when asked to add to her obituary and write her tribute.
It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do because doing so, made her death real. A fact my heart was not yet ready to accept. But in the silence of my room, the words came...
I found him whom my soul
loves. Song of Solomon 3:4
A love of imperfection and beauty, two souls
brought together over 60 years ago—formed into one—and when one half ascended
to heaven, the other wandered the Earth incomplete.
The love and devotion my grandma held for my
grandpa was amazing. She taught me quite a bit about marriage and what family
truly meant to her. While my son, Logan, was ill in the hospital, she would sit
with me in his room and fuss about the nurses when they would poke and prod her
great-grandson. “Can’t you see he’s sleeping?” She would say. With gentle
smiles, the nurses would proceed with their duties.
Exhausted one afternoon, I cried on my
grandma’s shoulder. “What if I can’t do this? What if Logan gets worse? What if
my marriage falls apart? I don’t know what to do.”
“You do know what to do.” She said. “You’re
here with Logan. You are fighting for him and for Phil. That is what we do. We
fight for family no matter what.”
Those words never left me.
To her, family was the air she breathed, the
sunlight on her face, and the nourishment to her body. She loved beyond the
boundaries, which were set. She embraced life and the people within it. Her
faith unyielding even when loss shadowed her, grandma’s spirit remained lifted.
That’s not to say we didn’t have our fair
share of humorous conversations. Her attempts to scold our antics were faint at
best. With each wide-eyed gasp, “Andrea” was
a laugh and a smile.
Though, my family lives 1500 miles away—which
she never neglected to reprimand me on and that we only visited every two years—we
managed to make her chuckle, cringle, and scratch her head at each quirky gift
we would send to her. I am confident she has a collection of fuzzy mustaches and
stuffed animal monkey’s concealed somewhere.
As somber as my heart wants to beat, it
cannot.
She filled our lives with happiness and love
and we, as her family, must pass it on to the next generation. Show them what
family truly is. What it is to love and be selfless. What it means to put
others before us. To hold tight to our faith and to know in the end, our family
will guide us Home.
I was blessed to able to speak with her
before she let go of this world. Through her tears and pain, her only worry was
of Logan and if he would remember her. I promised her that he would never, ever
forget about his great-grandma and all that she had done for him.
And he won’t because she is love.
Dorothy Mae Buresh is love.
Love bears all things,
believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
1 Corinthians 13:7
For those who know her: Dot in her blue dress
is happy and dancing with the angels.
Yesterday while I was in my office, I heard Logan talking. I crept through the kitchen.
Logan was saying a prayer for his great-grandma. Bells from our neighborhood church chimed 12, the time her funeral was set to begin. I quickly snapped this photo before Logan knew I was there. It was such a beautiful moment. And for the first time in days, my heart lifted.
I felt peace.
Even in the shadows, there is light.
Behind the dark clouds, there is sun.
With every prayer, there is hope.
With each tear shed, we will heal.
Together. As a family.
It is what my grandma would have wanted.
No comments:
Post a Comment