I received a phone call from my Dad on Thanksgiving morning. It did seem a bit odd as I was still in my pjs. Usually Thanksgiving calls come after dinner. As best he could, he let me know that my Grandma died earlier that morning. It wasn't a shock as she was 94, but news like that is never easy to receive. I was in the front room of our home as I talked with my dad and when we got off the phone I sat down on her piano bench that is now in our home. At that moment, I became overwhelmed with thankfulness…. thankfulness for her. Tears flooded me as I sat amazed at my God who gave me such a gift. She was my gift from heaven. Things happen in this world that are so hard, and is so confusing – like death, disease. We just don’t understand. Yet if I am able to look close enough, in time I will see God’s hand loving me and providing for in the midst of that desperate time – maybe not at that moment…maybe not for years. That was what Grandma was for me.
As a little girl who lost her mommy, she stepped in the gap that was left and she loved me so well. When we moved to Georgia, I was 7, but that didn't stop her... she pursued me by calling weekly. My parents did a great job keeping us connected, too, making sure my sister and I went for a visit at least once ever year or two.
I wish I could describe how she made me feel, but words fail me. Of course, I couldn't verbalize this then, but as an adult, I have seen how God used her to love me when I needed to be loved.
For me, the fact that she past away on thanksgiving is really special. I will forever remember on Thanksgiving how much of a special gift she was to me from God himself. Sometime He shows us his love in human hands. For me, it was her hands.
