I never said I was funny

Nearly a month and a half away from celebrating ninty-two, my grandmother had passed. She battled colon cancer in her seventies, breast cancer in her eighties and came out letting them know who was boss each time. 

She out lived her parents, her two sisters and a brother. She raised an amazing son while loving his wife. She lost her husband, the only man she loved, at the young age of sixty,  for thirty-two years she would say “I miss my Don, I wanna go home” She watched three grand-daughters marry, and start families of their own inherting 7 great grand-children, all whom loved her more than she could imagine.

 She prayed for all she had met, and for all whom she hadn’t. She prayed like an angel and swore like a trucker. She loved her church, her friends, and hated her picture being taken. Memories of houghton lake summers are now etched in stone with the vision of her crying and waving her hankie as we pulled out of her driveway knowing it would be awhile before she would see us again. 

She prayed for each of us during our trials and our triumphs, although dementia took her from us, we never lost her completely. That brillant blue sparkle that would suddenly appear in her eyes when a glimpse of a memory came back, we held onto for months. All the years of her wanting to love us in our world, knowing all to well how much she wanted to be with God in his, assured her family and her husband were waiting for her. 

Today my Papa reached out his hand and asked her dance, she opened her eyes one last time and looked at her son, this time…this time, she finally said yes. 

May you forever hear our hearts call to you, while we forever remember your laugh.  As you are forever in our daily lives, we love you and cherish you Gramma Ginney.

“And He will raise you up on eagles wings, bear you on the breath of dawn, make you to shine like sun, and hold you in the palm of His hand”.