The Secret to Life

When I was a young girl, I lived next door to my mother’s parents, T.C. “Butch” and Lucille Dollins.  My grandparents lived in a simple, wood-framed house.  It was small, with two bedrooms, one bathroom, a living room, and a kitchen.  The house had no central heat or air.  It was cooled in the summertime by a water cooler mounted in one of the living room windows, and it was heated in the wintertime by a wood-burning stove housed in the living room.  The water was pumped from a well outside.

My grandparents’ house may have been simple and small, but it was full of love.  Their door was always open.  There were actually two doors to the outside, one off the front porch and the other off the rear carport.  The rear door was the one used most often, where countless relatives and friends were greeted by the open arms of Butch and Lucille, or Grandpa and Grandma to me.  You would often find them and their visitors engaged in a rousing game of dominoes at the kitchen table.  You were always welcomed, and you could never visit too long or come back soon enough.

I loved going to my grandparents’ house, which I did often since I lived next door.  I really liked to spend the night in their guest bedroom.  The bed had extra high mattresses, and I would pretend that I was the princess from “The Princess and the Pea” story by Hans Christian Andersen.  In this story, a pea was placed under a stack of numerous mattresses and bedding, and only a real princess could detect the pea underneath.  Yes, I felt like a princess when I was at my grandparents’ house, not only because of the guest bed, but because of the love and care that I received there.

The house was always filled with the smell of spices or something cooking.  This was one of the many ways Grandma demonstrated her tender love for others.  She prepared food from scratch, which often included vegetables from the extensive garden that she and Grandpa planted and harvested each year.  Grandma was a great cook, and I watched her prepare many a meal over a gas stove with her iron skillet.  Breakfast was my favorite.  No one could cook fried potatoes, eggs, and biscuits like Grandma!

Grandma also had home remedies for various ailments.  Though I didn’t particularly care for the taste of her cold remedy of whiskey and honey, it always seemed to do the trick.  Her buttermilk wrap seemed to be the answer for many an injury.  And she doctored many a kid besides her own – nieces, nephews, cousins, grandkids, and great-grandkids too.

Despite suffering various hardships herself, Grandma never complained.  She worked hard all of her life and never had much to show for it by the world’s standards, but she was grateful for what she had.  She always had a smile on her face and a kind word to share.  She was the most patient person I have ever met.  I don’t recall her ever raising her voice at me.  She spoke with love and kindness.

I never felt judged by Grandma, and she never placed expectations on me.  She made me feel accepted and wanted, just as I was.  She always had time for me despite everything she had to juggle.  I was one of many grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and even great-great-grandchildren, but her love was big enough for us all.

I didn’t realize until I was older that Grandma had given me a rare gift, the greatest gift.  Grandma’s love was the closest thing to unconditional love that I have ever experienced outside of God’s love for me.  The way she loved was what made me feel so special.  That’s how she made me feel like a princess.

Last week, I spent one final night with Grandma.  This time it wasn’t in a princess bed, it was in a hospital room chair.  I had received a call earlier that afternoon that Grandma had been hospitalized, and the outlook was grim.  I drove two hours to join my family by her side.  As the night wore on, I volunteered to hold vigil at the hospital and encouraged my weary family members to retire for the evening.  My mom took some extra persuasion and finally relented at my insistence that she get some rest.  I assured everyone that I would notify them right away if there was any change in Grandma’s condition.

After everyone had left, I grabbed a blanket and reclined in a chair next to Grandma’s hospital bed.  Grandma’s breathing was labored, with a series of silent shallow breaths followed by a deep, raspy breath.  I would find myself dozing off and waking up to silence, and I would wait to hear if the raspy breath would return.  Each time it would, and I would doze off again.

This pattern continued until the next morning, when I arose to hear the report from the attending nurse.  Grandma’s vital signs were weakening, and the nurse said it seemed like Grandma was holding on for something and that she would likely hang on until she was ready to let go.

As the morning passed, the room began to fill again with close family members, and calls were placed to extended family members to let them know the end was near.  One by one, additional family members entered the room until it was packed.  It was a little after the noon hour when the last person arrived.  Within a few seconds of this, Grandma took her last breath.  The nurse had been right, Grandma had been holding on.  Now surrounded by her family, she finally let go.

Grandma left this life for one better; however, what she left behind will be long felt and long remembered.  She never had much materially, but she had it all because she had love.  She loved God, and she loved people.  Her goal in life wasn’t to get people to love her, rather her goal was to love others.

Grandma demonstrated the kind of love described in 1 Corinthians 13:4-8, “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.  Love never fails …”

Grandma knew the secret to life.  She lived it and she shared it.  Grandma loved, and she loved big.  She truly understood that it’s not what you have but what you give.  May we all follow her example.