I have often thought about what kind of legacy I want to leave behind. This question has come more to my mind these last two weeks as we celebrated my grandmother, who passed away on August 27, 2011 at the age of 88. So I get to share a few of my fondest memories of her and how I hope that when I have reached that age, I can leave the kind of enduring legacy she has.
My grandmother was a farmers wife. Even in the years when they didn't farm. I hear stories of how thrifty she was, how she loved life even when life didn't seem to love her back. She was the proud mama of 10 children, 48 grandchildren, and 85 and counting great grandchildren. I am so sad that my children won't get to know her, but I am so grateful that I have some pictures of her and Gideon. Her funeral was a celebration for all of those people. My father says that he suspects the number of people celebrating her on the other side was probably a lot higher, and I tend to agree. After ten years, she gets to join her sweetheart on the other side, plus two of her boys who preceded her in death.
My memories of my grandma are simple. She was the most amazing cook. I really believe that her motto may really have been "Only cowards cook on low!" When we would visit her farm as kids, she would make the most amazing breakfasts. The kind that as a kid make you so excited. Pancakes, homemade syrup, oatmeal, cold cereal, eggs, bacon, sausage, orange juice, fresh milk, and all of the other foods you could possibly hope for. To this day, I miss those breakfasts. She also made these amazing Christmas tins for the holidays full of her fudge, brittle, and all of her wonderful candy. I will admit that her fruitcake is the only fruitcake I have ever cared for. At her funeral, though, I found out that even though this was her specialty, she never really cared for it. She made it because she knew her family loved it.
She was a woman of faith. I remember her playing the piano and singing. She was always singing. I remember kneeling down for family prayers with her and the way her hands felt when she would hold mine while we prayed. I remember the wonderful birthday cards that she sent me every year, with their words of encouragement. Her promises that if I kept living faithfully all of my righteous desires would happen. She was right. Maybe not when I wanted things, but she was right.
I hope someday that I can leave behind the same legacy she leaves. I hope someday that people will look at me and say "You remind me of her." As I raise my children, I hope that I can have that same strength of character and conviction that she had. It's funny how much a funeral can make you reevaluate your own goals and desires. I hope that I can be the same kind of wife and mother that she was!
