This past week we were back in Arizona to attend the funeral of my husband's paternal grandmother, Pearl Virginia Mattingly- or as we all knew her- Grandma Ginny.
It was a lovely intimate service with just a handful of close family in attendance. We were all concerned about the weather. Arizona has already started its heatwave and it was predicted to be in the 100's the day of the service.
But the morning of the service found the sky filled with clouds that created a much welcomed overcast. As we sat under the mortuary's gazebo, listening to the pastor and being soothed by the trickle of the nearby stream, we were all amazed at the light cool breeze that came our way.
Grandma Ginny's ashes were laid to rest just a couple of steps away from the gazebo and stream. We watched as the simple brass cylinder hold Ginny was slowly lowered into the ground. And on top of the cylinder laid the black heart that I had tattered.
Ginny was born with very weak lungs. The family doctor told her mom that she wouldn't make it to her 18th birthday. In the 88 years that Grandma Ginny lived, she has buried not only that doctor, but four other doctors who predicted her death. Her last doctor said, "I'm not even going to try a guess how much longer you have here on Earth. God will take you when He is good and ready, and not a moment sooner."
On one visit to see Ginny after a long hospitalization, we talked about her childhood in Kentucky and her siblings. We also talked about what it is like to live with a chronic illness, something we both have in common. I will never forget the words she said to me. "You know Michelle, I've never been afraid to die. Dying is easy. It's the suffering that's a bitch."
She was a tough country girl who beat the odds. She could shoot a gun and gut a fish just as easily as she could feed and dress her little boy. I will never forget her stories or her sense of humor. And I will always admire her strength and stubborn strong will.
It was a lovely intimate service with just a handful of close family in attendance. We were all concerned about the weather. Arizona has already started its heatwave and it was predicted to be in the 100's the day of the service.
But the morning of the service found the sky filled with clouds that created a much welcomed overcast. As we sat under the mortuary's gazebo, listening to the pastor and being soothed by the trickle of the nearby stream, we were all amazed at the light cool breeze that came our way.
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| Valley of the Sun Mortuary |
Ginny was born with very weak lungs. The family doctor told her mom that she wouldn't make it to her 18th birthday. In the 88 years that Grandma Ginny lived, she has buried not only that doctor, but four other doctors who predicted her death. Her last doctor said, "I'm not even going to try a guess how much longer you have here on Earth. God will take you when He is good and ready, and not a moment sooner."
On one visit to see Ginny after a long hospitalization, we talked about her childhood in Kentucky and her siblings. We also talked about what it is like to live with a chronic illness, something we both have in common. I will never forget the words she said to me. "You know Michelle, I've never been afraid to die. Dying is easy. It's the suffering that's a bitch."
She was a tough country girl who beat the odds. She could shoot a gun and gut a fish just as easily as she could feed and dress her little boy. I will never forget her stories or her sense of humor. And I will always admire her strength and stubborn strong will.
No more suffering Grandma Ginny. Only peace and rest.
I'm sorry for your loss. She sounds like quite a woman. You were blessed to have her in your life.
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