Thursday, February 5, 2015

Legacy of love.

Two weeks a go my family suffered an awful loss. My sweet great grandmother, Martha Mae Palmer, went to be with Jesus and so many others that we have lost. She went home. My life has been turned upside down and I find myself missing her more and more as the days pass, but I find comfort in knowing that she is no longer hurting and has made it home, because in the end we all will have our day.

Among this heartache I experienced something so beautiful and Jesus filled. Something that had been right in front of my face for far too long, yet I had never seen its beauty before the pain came rushing in. I remember getting the call the night it happened. I remember my body going limp in the kitchen and just crying. I remember Toby telling me to just get ready and we would leave, we would go be with her in her final moments. Moments, I never wanted to have, because the thought of losing her was something I never wanted to endure. None of us wanted to ever believe it was true. 

My Grandma Mae played a large role in raising me and I am more than thankful for that. She always made me drink my milk before bad and read to her every day after school. She laid my clothes out on the old grey recliner that was retired years ago and always made me something special for breakfast. After school there was always an apple on the table waiting for me. As I got older and had my own children things changed. Instead of apples she was baking Lemon-Apricot Cake and always telling Papa to save me a piece or two because it was my absolute favorite. When things were hard she would pray with me, over the phone or in person. She was so filled with Jesus and it always showed.  She loved my babies just as much as she loved me and I am so thankful they had the chance to know her, to even be in her presence. 

Most importantly my Grandma Mae and my Papa Doc loved each other in ways I have never seen love. Not many people meet on a Greyhound bus and experience love at first sight. Several months a go, my husband and I asked them to tell us how they met, because T had never heard the story before.   Through out the story at some point Grandma said "Well, I was sitting down on the bus ready to go to college and he walked on the bus with a cigarette behind his ear and tattoos. I just knew my Mama would tell me no, but I just fell in love with him and I guess she did too because we lived happily ever after." We just laughed and then Papa went on to talk about how ornery he use to be. The best part about it all was just how happy they were. It's like they had just fallen in love all over again, for the very first time. In that moment I knew that love existed with so much more force than I had ever imagined. My grandparents were married for 68 wonderful years and love never left or subsided, it only grew. I've always wondered if people grow old and just become "comfortable" and if love dwindles, but that day I found out it doesn't have to. I am still young and my love for T grows more and more every day in life's twists and turns. I can only hope that one day we share a love like they did. A legacy of love. That's what we will call it. How lucky I was to see such beauty in such pain in these last few weeks. I have been reminded of that day they shared their story with us, that love, and of all the moments that I now hold on to.

Love is so worth it y'all. I am so lucky to have been loved by her.

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