A Tribute

Wow, do I love this time of year! I'm sitting at my computer with the window open next to me, listening to the birds and enjoying the sweet smell of Spring and all of its beauty. Nevermind that the flower gardens need tending, the grass needs raked and will soon need to be mowed, the veggie garden needs tilling and seeds planted, the lawn mower needs its annual tune-up, and the Spring to-do list continues to expand. Right now, none of that matters as the warmer weather, sunshine, and budding trees have eclipsed any pessimistic grumblings. Just the very thought of having a Spring to-do list only invites anticipation of deck parties, bar-b-ques, and backyard swimming extravaganzas. Even the realization that Nebraska probably still has at least one of her usual mid-Spring wintry blasts scheduled to wreak havoc on the new growth, doesn't do much to squelch the excitement.

In the wake of all of this new life, my thoughts turn to my Grandma who went home to walk with God this last Sunday. At 95 years old, she lived an incredibly beautiful life, evidenced by the constant smile she wore on her face. I would be hard pressed to recall a moment when Grandma wasn't smiling. She taught us to laugh and love, she taught us selflessness, and she taught us to foster and embrace our spirituality. There was never a verbal lesson, and yet she had so much to say just through her actions and her love for God. Even in her final days, when she seemingly struggled to understand us or sometimes even recognize us, her smile never left, her laugh rarely ceased, and the twinkle in her green eyes never dulled.

And so it only seems natural that Grandma would wait until this time of year to go home. For even in death, she is still teaching. The lesson? While her earthly life as ended, her spiritual life is reborn and has only just begun to bloom. While I look out my window to witness the wonderful and beautiful creation of God, I see Grandma's lesson in each new bud on the trees, in each new flower bursting from the ground, in each blade of grass as it turns to green. I hear her piano in the songs of the birds and the soft rhythm of raindrops landing on the roof, and I witness her storytelling in the buzzing of bees and soft Spring breezes. Grandma surrounds us with her love through the continuous and never-ending process of life, death, and resurrection.

God-speed, Grandma, and I'll be sure and save you a seat at the bar-b-que!