I've been pondering this for well over a week, trying to come up with something short and sweet that captures everything I hope generations after me will say about me and the life I lived. But I couldn't do it. Finally, I decided that a disjointed list of seemingly unrelated things is okay. One beautiful, sweeping statement about what kind of legacy I hope to leave just won't cut it because I hope my grandchildren know me well enough to say lots of things about me--some funny, some quirky, some sweet and moving, like...
She smelled good. Not like an old lady at all.
You know how some families dread going to Grandma's house? Not me. I loved visiting her.
No one will ever make a better chocolate chip cookie. But if I'm lucky, I'll make them just as good as she did.
I loved watching her dance in the kitchen with Grandpa. She couldn't dance worth anything, but Grandpa didn't care, and neither did she. I hope my husband and I love each other like that when we are as old as they are.
Her laugh was infectious. I cry when I laugh just like she did.
She loved life; she squeezed everything out of it that she could, and I know Jesus is going to greet her with open arms and say, "Well done."
With her, I felt safe and loved.
She taught me how to sing "I'm a Little Teapot," and she always had the best tea parties.
She couldn't carry a tune, but I loved listening to her sing.
She swore she didn't have favorites among us grandkids, but secretly I believe she liked me best. At least, that's the way she made me feel whenever I was with her.
I hope she knows how much I love her.
She believed in me, and she taught me to believe in myself.
She made things beautiful.
I loved spending time with her.
I loved it when she read stories to me. She always did all the voices.
As much as she loved me, as much as she loved my mom, and as much as she loved Grandpa--she loved Jesus more. And she loved people the way He loves them.
I'll miss her.
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