Gremommy Branch

It's cooking in the kitchen before the house is busy.  The sound of bacon sizzling & popping, the smell of it cooking.  It's flowers blooming as Spring comes dancing in.  It's seeing a coral colored blouse that is petite, stylish, and classy.  It's the sunset.  The sunrise.  Candy in little jars.  It's a vase of yellow roses, dried and placed in my living room.  It's a piece of jewelry.  It's my stationary collection.  It's checking the mail.  It's an antique plate from an estate sale. Christmas stockings. The quilt draped on my couch. It's the smell of my sewing machine. Sticks of gum.  The smell of a honey suckle candle in my house, bought because summer's at her house smelled like that.  It's sitting quietly.  A song.  A stranger's smile.  My son's joy.... My Gremommy is everywhere.

It has been weeks since she went Home.  As her body became lifeless here on this earth, Jesus breathed new life into her.  There is no way to wrap my mind around how wonderful that must be.  There have been moments where I wanted to call and ask a question, tell her a story, ask advice, or just to simply ... call.  Or any of the above listed moments will occur, and the beautiful spirit of my Grandmother will rush back into my world, stir my heart and most of the time it brings a smile to my heart and face.  Most of the time.  And, most of the time, I let that just be a moment for me to have.  There are moments it stings.  Moments where my heart aches, and physically hurts. And some of those moments in between, they just make me smile. 

She was the glue in our family.  My essay to get into college had that very line as the staple.  I had to write about my hero, someone who had changed my life... and she had. She had (and forever will) everyone's respect, love, & attention.  When you sat to talk with her, in the midst of a busy family Christmas or Thanksgiving meal, she could magically pause the whole room & focus intently on you.  She would shine the spotlight of her eyes on your every word.  And, she did this with every family member.  It wasn't just my Dad, her first born, who got this special attention; nor was it the youngest cousin, her baby granddaughter.  She had a personal, profound, authentic relationship with each of us.  I remember Christmas mornings being excited to receive gifts from her that I did not ask for.  She knew us.  She knew what we liked, did not like, favorite foods, how to cook our eggs, our sense of humor, talents, & how to give advice to each of us. And oh man, did she make you feel special. Worthy. Beautiful... How she listened and loved made a part of me feel so .... complete.
   What a gift to have..... and more than having, what a gift to share.  She shared of herself, always.  Always giving.... always selfless.... last to sit down to any meal, first to get up & begin cleaning.

If I can be even a fraction of a woman she was, I will touch this world in a spectacular way.  The essence of my Gremommy, the way she carried herself, how she spoke about others, how intentional she ALWAYS was, how she loved Jesus, her cooking & art work, her story-telling, her ability to listen,  her work ethic, & how it was never about what she could gain, but what she could give has impacted my life.  She was a Proverbs 31 woman.  So, it's not just that I long to be a woman modeled after her, but to be a woman modeled after God's Truth.  She was faithful to that. 

When my Nana passed away, her Mother, I wrote a little bit & spoke at the burial.  I remember thinking that someday I wanted to write something beautiful about my own Grandmother to share at her funeral. When the time came I couldn't even muster up a sentence, or a complete thought.  There was too much.  Too many stories, to many traits to highlight, & I did not want to miss anything.  I did not want to leave out even a single part.  My cousin Tony wrote & spoke, and it was so perfect.  He articulated her so well.  I felt so proud to sit at the front of that church, being family, as he spoke about her.  My Grandmother. Our Gremommy.

Josh's mom had encouraged me to write a letter to her and read it to her while she was still in the hospital & I could not bring myself to write one last letter.  Even now, it takes my breath away... paralyzes me to think that I won't check the mail again for one of her letters, with her perfect penmanship & thoughtful words.  I could not even think of words to say as I sat by her bed those last days.  She held Asher's feet, & said he looked just like me.  She told me she would miss me.  Even then, she was classy... she was giving of herself to comfort all of us.... It doesn't just take a strong woman to embody those traits, it takes a Holy woman. A sanctified woman. A woman who is tried & TRUE.  A woman bathed in the Holy Spirit.  Her love for the Lord was not just something she read about, or sang about... it was HER.  She was His Love here on earth.  She brought the Kingdom of God to earth in the way God designed for her to.

So many Christians make a claim to faith.  They are church goers, but not church doers.  They can sing beautiful hymns, but never believe the truth of them.  They have a Bible in there homes, but never study it as a guide for HOW TO live.  They show up at Church, clock in & clock out.  They gossip & make crude jokes.  They put themselves before the needs of their neighbor, or even the needs of their family.  And this is why countless people are turned away from the church.  This is why people turn away from even listening to the Truth of Jesus Christ, and His resurrection.

Ghandi said, "I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. They are so unlike your Christ."

I say all of this to commend the life, the faithfulness, the servant heart of my Grandmother.  She looked like Jesus. She was His hands and feet.  She spoke Truth.  The fruits of the Spirit were not just there... they were ripe, perfect in color, fresh, and organic.  She lived a life worthy of her calling.  

You cannot deeply know a person like this & be unchanged, untouched.  

Her life isn't carrying on.... but the love... oh that rich, unconditional, ever-flowing, tasteful, selfless love has carried on.  In each of us.  In her family and within her friends.

 I am so honored to of been her granddaughter.  I am blessed with memories from summers at the lake house, Christmas mornings, cooking lessons, dresses sewn just for me, her wit, Thanksgiving meals cooked to perfection, long phone calls about everything you could think of, encouragement, long letters, her meeting & holding Asher, knowing my husband, sharing books with me that she enjoyed reading, playing dress up with her jewelry as a little girl, spending summer days in their pool, shopping with her and for her.... One of my last, tangible, memories with her was right before my wedding.  My Granddad was too sick with Alzheimers, so they couldn't make the trek to our wedding.  Weeks before, we went through her jewelry, and her Mother's jewelry to pick out something for me to wear at my wedding.  She told me the stories behind them, and why she loved them so much.  We have done many intentional things together in our relationship... but this one... this one I kind of knew was one of our last.... I knew she wanted to be at my wedding... and I cried over the fact that she couldn't make it... so, this meant a lot to me.  And, it isn't the pieces of jewelry that mean the world to me... it was sitting there with her & my cousins, picking through bits of her history.  It was her taking the time, to shine the spotlight of her eyes on me.... worthy of wearing a Queen's jewelry.  It was the moment.  The joy in the air.  Her giving. The stories.  That moment is instilled in my heart. The jewelry can fade.. but that, that moment you cannot take.

She was.... and will continue to be.... a woman of bold inspiration.  I am forever in awe of her.  I am forever blessed to of had so many spotlight moments, cherished memories, & to know her scent. I am forever her granddaughter, forever the holder of letters just for me, forever able to either carry on her legacy, or let it go... I am forever changed because of you, Patsy Ruth Branch.

And, I think I will forever miss you.... and forever cry tears of joy when we sing songs of Heaven, knowing you are already there.  You are there at your lake house in Heaven, with Jesus himself.  Forever.

I love you.