Grandma

There's a certain home vibe, that defies expression. It vibes strong here. Something about sunny pollenated air, clean sheets, timber and fresh berries (and memories of all these things, which fill in for the things absent). And the expectation of seeing familiar beloved faces.

Talking of beloved faces, there is one I won't see again, untransformed. When I said good bye to my Granma in her room in Snug Village Hostel before leaving for the US and A, that was the final farewell. I said good bye again, but she didn't hear it, as the coffin was lowered into the ground. I overheard Dad say that she gets the best view in the cemetry, on the sunny hillside overlooking the great blue bay and then he added "but she gets the best view of all."

I cried more than I thought I would at the funeral (which is structured like a wedding, but different emotions are required of you), but some of the tears were the ones you get in response to something profoundly beautifuly true; like the kindness of strangers when you feel in the pit of dispair. I cried because my grandmother's death had saved her from the immense pain she suffered in her life and brought her into the eternal life she longed for. And she knew and proclaimed that that eternal life is something you can only know when you are in the pit of dispair of your own depravity and rebellion against God. And the profoundly beautifuly true things is this: when we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

It is sad to see Betty go, but she knew Christ and she was faithful to the end, egearly awaiting His mercy beyond the grave. This gives me tears of joy.