“I wish for you tough times and disappointment, hard work
and happiness." ~ Gammie
“Get outta the passing lane you moron,” Rhianna yelled
flashing her headlights and accelerated quickly past the slower vehicle. Darkness closed quickly in her rearview
mirror; she had to get to Gammie’s before it was too late.
Twenty minutes later, Rhianna entered the home that that had
once been her mother’s. The timeworn home
was quiet except for a ticking wall clock and creaking floorboards.
She made her way down the musty hallway to Gammie’s bedroom
and before pausing briefly. “Gammie?”
she called softly and gently pushed the door open. “It’s me, Rhia.”
She wasn’t prepared for what she saw - a frail emaciated
form that had once been her grandmother.
Tired grey eyes brightened as she spoke.
“I knew you would come dear.”
“How are you Gammie?” the middle-aged granddaughter asked,
fighting tears threatening to escape from her eyes.
“You know how I’m doing child,” the old woman said
weakly. “I’m dying.”
“Talk to me Gammie,” Rhianna encouraged. “Tell me again those things that you used to
tell me when I was a child too thick-headed to accept.”
“Ah, let’s see if I
can remember,” Gammie began. “I hope you learn humility by surviving
failure and learn to be honest even when no one’s looking. I hope you have a close friend to be with you
in case you ever have to put your old dog down.
I hope you get a black eye fighting for something you believe in.”
Gammie took an uncertain breath before continuing. “Be
a witness, not a judge, focus on yourself, not on others. Don’t educate yourself to be rich, do so to
be happy. Listen to your heart, speak
your mind, and remember that you’ll never be too old to make a difference.”
Lost in thought now, Rhianna suddenly noticed how quiet the
room had become. She smiled at how
peaceful Gammie rested.
She was gone . . . but only from this life.
Rhianna lifted Gammie’s hand to her lips and kissed her gnarled
fingers. Rising gently, she placed
Gammie’s hands tenderly on her lap and left room.
Sitting alone on the front porch, Rhianna reflected on the
things Gammie had just said.
Gammie loved me no matter what, she thought. She taught me that holidays should be
celebrated with family. She urged me to
serve others when I'm feeling selfish. She
taught me how to say "I love you," frequently but not casually. And whenever I went on a date, she said,
"Remember who you are, and who your Heavenly Father wants you to be."
Two failed marriages, an addiction to painkillers, and a
mountain of debt later, it’s never too late to realize her truth.
Lord, we live in a world where respecting
our elders is becoming ancient history.
We don’t admire our elderly the way You call us to. Don’t let us discard that precious gift of
wisdom. They’re to be respected and
honored because they earned it. Amen
