When once asked why he married my grandma, my grandad replied with a grin, "I had nothing better to do that day." And the other 21 of us (which includes my three nephews and still-unknown-relation) agree. There was nothing better he could have done than marry my grandmother, and brought all of this into the world by it.
I've been cleaning my grandparents house fairly consistently since I was 12, and in all those hours spent at their house I've eaten the best and freshest cookies, learnt to make flour, witnessed the greatest example of a godly life, and heard the best stories, among so many other things. Spending time at my grandparents' house is encouraging. Their house is peaceful yet joyful and organised yet relaxed. My grandmother loves light, so my uncle designed the house so that there are huge windows on the West and South sides especially, so the whole house is filled with sunlight. Its bright, its cheerful, its warm, and it completely nails the feeling of "home". And I know that that feeling of "home" would not be there without the love and hard work that my grandmother has poured into making it that.
At about 10:30AM on Friday morning, I would have been found dusting their living room and chatting with grandma. She was laughing and telling me of how grandad had bought her a new phone on Thursday for her birthday and then Inland Cellular deactivated her current phone too soon, thus giving away the surprise. My grandmother was highly amused at how she found out too, and was so happy that grandad had bought her a cool new red phone. Yep, that's my grandma!
At 2:00PM Saturday afternoon, I made my way back to my grandparents house to finish up the last few chores for the week, and was greeted at the doorway by grandma as I walked in. As I removed my shoes and made my way to the broom closet, she told me of how she had been planning to plant her hollyhocks this afternoon, but couldn't find the bulbs anywhere! She continued searching the house as I swept, and I kept a look out for them too, hoping to help her find them if possible. Oh well, she said, she could always go plant other flowers and wait for the bulbs to show up later. I smiled and said they'd turn up soon, and she bounced out the garage door. Yes, bounced. Five minutes later, as I was beginning to mop the hallway around the corner, she poked her head back inside. "Faith!" "Yes?" "I found them! They were outside!" I grinned and could tell from the sound of her voice that she was very happy.
I got my love of flowers from her. She has the most incredible iris patch (and I admit I'm completely jealous of it), and has zinnias and other colorful, ruffly flowers lining their yard beside the fence Robert build. She knows how to make her land look beautiful, and she puts that knowledge to good use. From the asparagus plants to the zinnias to the iris in her east flower garden to the many rose bushes in the front of the house, my grandmother has successfully shrouded her land in color. I got my love of color from her too.
I could talk about her for hours and not run out of things to say about her. She is, to sum up, the Proverbs 31 woman. She works hard, rises early, cares for her husband, raised her children in the fear and love of Christ, she speaks well of her husband wherever she goes and has built him up into a great and respected man, she doesn't complain, she cooks and cleans and serves others with all her heart, and her children, grandchildren, and now great-grandchildren rise up and call her blessed. She is one of my greatest role models, and I owe so much to her already.
So, grandma, this is for you.
To the dearest, loveliest, kindest, cheerfullest, and godliest grandmother I could have ever asked for: I do indeed owe you ever so much, and I thank God for blessing me with being your granddaughter. I love you very, very much.
Happy birthday, grandma.
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