83 years ago today...

She was born 83 years ago today. I don't know her birth story, but being from a poor family in rural Oklahoma, and like the rest of the babies born in the 1930s, she was likely born at home. Maybe there was a hospital close by but since she was the youngest of five her mother was a pro by this point. Another girl. One boy, four girls, and she completed the family but not on purpose according to her. She would jokingly say that her mother chose to name her Hellen, and spell it with two Ls, because the minute she found out she was pregnant with her fifth child she said, "Oh, hell." I highly doubt that's true, but it makes for a good story. With the amount of spunk, whit, and charm that she brought to her family, I have a feeling her mother was extra grateful she had that fifth child. And although I haven't seen any baby pictures to prove it, I am positive she was beautiful from the start. Big brown eyes and dimples a mile deep. I doubt it was ever hard to not love or adore her. She may have been a little spitfire, but those very personalities are often the most endearing.

We knew she was developing some sort of memory loss long before she was given a proper diagnosis. She covered it well but small things gave it away. She began telling the same stories over and over or she'd forget information she had just received. Sometimes she'd be talking or listening and you could see her eyes begin to stare off into the distance. That wasn't really like her. She'd always been a great conversationalist, but let's be honest, in this day and age, who really listens without being easily distracted? Her mother suffered from dementia for many years. It's a cruel disease. I suppose all diseases are cruel, but this one takes a person from you long before their breathe their last breath. And so for the last few years of her life, we'd catch glimpses of her "old self." I think this is all due to God's grace because it's extremely hard to walk through this valley with someone you love dearly.

It just so worked out that I was able to be present for the celebration of her 80th birthday. She couldn't believe she was 80 years old! I asked her if she had a favorite birthday memory and she shared about her fifth birthday. I don't know of many people who loved presents as much as Nana. Gifts were definitely her love language. And she really didn't even care what the gift was. As long as it was wrapped in a package, she was thrilled! She knew she wouldn't be having a birthday party because her family couldn't afford one, and like every child, she knew a party meant gifts. Using her five years of wisdom, she invited all of her classmates over for a party without telling her family. The first child showed up to the house to the surprise of her mother who was completely unprepared to host a party. Now why would a child throw a party without telling their mother? Well, she knew her mother would have to go along with it and wouldn't dare spank her in front of a crowd. How do you explain spanking a child and sending her friends home on her birthday? And so her mom scraped enough money together to run to the store and get a few treats so they could celebrate. She said, "My mom spanked me good when all my friends left, which I knew she would, but I didn't care. I got a lot of gifts!"

The last Christmas we spent with her before she moved into the nursing home was bittersweet. She joined us for the candlelight service, like always, and I noticed she was wearing her pajama top. It was a cute top, but definitely not something she would have ever done intentionally. She was, however, sure to have on all of her jewels! She never left home without having on a good number of things that sparkled. We had a nice dinner and she opened her gifts with the same excitement she probably displayed at her fifth birthday party. Seven months later she would move into assisted living and begin a very rapid decline both physically and mentally. We celebrated her life a few days before Mother's Day, and this is the first year of our lives that we aren't celebrating her birthday with her on this earth.

The morning she passed away was a strange answered prayer. No one wants to lose a loved one to death, but when you know their soul has been bought by the blood of Jesus and is secure in his hands, then it's much easier to let them go instead of watching them suffer. I have since found great comfort that even though the process of death seems so lonely, as if you're walking into a new uncertainty by yourself, you're never alone. Like David said, "even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil because you are with me." So that short distance we make between here and Heaven, the one that is only a breath and blink away, is done so with Jesus by our side.  And when we get there, we know everyone! I wanted to offer my writing services up so that my dad and his sister didn't need to worry about the obituary. I figured it was the least I could do. But that offer got turned into giving the eulogy at the service. I love public speaking but I've never spoken at a funeral before, especially for a family member. Yet God granted me great amounts of help in writing and delivering a word about my Nana that only began to capture a glimpse of her life. Truth be told, it was a real honor because it was almost as if I was getting the chance to say those things to her. Things I wish I would have told her along the way because we never envision our lives without the people we love. Things I hope she knew regardless of whether or not they were said. And so to honor her today, I thought I'd share those very words because they remind me that I, too, am building a legacy with each day that passes. My days are numbered, and I don't know when they'll end so I want to be sure I'm living them well. Because one day, when my time has come, I hope someone I loved dearly will have a few words to say about me, and I sure hope they're good words!

I want to be honest and admit that I volunteered to write the obituary. Writing and words are my gift, but somehow that offer was turned into giving the eulogy. I’m not sure that I can do it justice, but I am honored to give it a try. I pray that God will hold back my tears and fill this room with his great peace and comfort as we celebrate the life of a wonderful woman who meant a great deal to us all.

To you she may be Hellen, mother, wife, sister, aunt, or friend, but to me she is Nana. And although I know she loved all of the titles she wore, I do believe Nana was her favorite. Of course, she never actually told me that but if you were in my shoes, you’d agree. The thing about Nana, though, is that she made everyone feel special. I once heard that where there is great grief, there was great love. Nana was well loved by many, but I do believe we can all agree that Nana loved well.

I could tell you stories for miles about our time with her. In fact, I have three decades worth to share, and not only do I have my own but I have many stories from other family members as well. I won’t take the time doing that this morning but I want to give you a glimpse into her life so that you can see how she impacted her loved ones. I spent many of my childhood weekends at Nana’s house. Everyone knew that what happened at Nana’s house stayed at Nana’s house. If there was one thing we could consistently count on it was that we would have a good time. She loved having fun. Nana was the life of the party and lit up a room as soon as she entered. It helped that she was strikingly beautiful, but I think her vivacious and contagious personality really won people over. She was always dressed to the nines, with a wardrobe of beautiful clothes and shoes. But when the granddaughters were over, nothing was off-limits. It didn’t matter how nice or expensive her dresses may have been, if we wanted to dress up and prance around the house she’d not only let us but she’d add on some make up for good measure. At one time in her life, she owned a Merle Norman store so she knew how to make any woman, or little girl, look and feel beautiful! And although cooking wasn’t her love, we would spend our weekends making peanut butter cookies and bread in her bread maker. Like every grandmother, she always wanted to be sure her babies were well fed, and only with the good stuff! We may have had a few too many donuts and milkshakes at her house, but a little sugar never hurt anyone, right? My brother, the one and only beloved grandson, shared one of his favorite memories with Nana. Fixed with a milkshake in hand, the two of them would cruise around town checking out houses in some of the most prestigious neighborhoods. He would promise her that once he won the lottery he’d buy her any and every house she wanted. She would laugh and remind him that she loved him not because of what he could buy her but because he was her only baby boy and that would never change. Then, they would head off to the convenient stores and purchase lottery tickets to test out their luck. Unfortunately, they never won enough money to buy a house – maybe just to cover the cost of their milkshakes. Time spent with Nana was precious.

If you belonged to her, you could do no wrong. She loved fiercely and always protected her own. She was brave, courageous, and strong. Here’s a fun little fact to prove that point. Nana led water aerobics for many years, but one thing she couldn’t do was swim. No worries! She didn’t have to swim, she just had to wear floaties and look good doing it. She wasn’t afraid to face challenges. And although her life was not always a rose garden, you would have never known because she always held her head high and walked with great dignity, class, and poise. She never allowed her circumstances to define her or take away her joy. She maintained high spirits and moved forward making the most of each situation rather than allowing it to bring defeat. This great strength is something that I began to notice about her later in my life as I was faced with my own challenges and wondered how I would overcome. But by the grace of God, and the example set for me by this strong and brave woman, I realized I, too, could move forward with my head held high, making the most of new opportunities.

Nana believed in her people. She thought we could do or accomplish anything, even if we ourselves weren’t so sure. She knew how to build others up and always believed in us. During a time in his policing career, my father was a motorcycle cop. My Nana loved telling everyone her son was a policeman, one of Lubbock’s finest, and not only did she tell people but she displayed a little statue of a motorcycle policeman, which bore a striking resemblance to him, on her coffee table with great pride. As any mother would be quick to admit, her children were absolutely her pride and joy. My aunt, her daughter, said that they were the best of friends. There wasn’t a thing in the world they didn’t, or couldn’t, talk about, and if you knew Nana, you know talking was her thing! But the greatest testimony to the kind of mother she was has been played out over the past three years as her children loving took incredible care of their mother. They never failed to visit her on a weekly basis, spend birthdays and holidays with her, take her some of her favorite treats, do her laundry, paint her nails, rub her feet, and simply be present so that in their moment of time together she knew she was deeply loved. Following the commands of Lord, they honored their mother – which was greatly deserved because she was a mother who gave so much to them.

There are so many stories I’d love to share about my Nana. It’s hard to pick and choose between memories and words. Yet I’m thankful not just for a few memories but for many. Because this is what we cling to now. And not only memories but hope. Hope because we know that our precious, beautiful Nana is whole and healed and experiencing the full and complete joy of our Lord. What she has known in part, she now knows in full. And if we can’t have her here with us, then the only other place we want her to be is in the presence of our Savior – the place we all long to be.

I want to end with the words of my brother who said, “I was never able to do anything special for Nana yet she did so much not only for me but for all of our family. I think everyone has at least one person who truly makes a difference in their life that lasts a lifetime, and while I have been fortunate to have many of those people, I will say that Nana was one of a kind.”

And so today we celebrate this one-of-a-kind woman and we anticipate the day that we will rejoice in Heaven with her. Apart for just a little while, but not forever!