After A Visit

We visited with my family in Lucedale this week. Brian went to Orlando for work and the kids and I spent a week with Grandma and Grandpa, my mom and dad. I enjoyed catching up with my former college roommate, Kelli, and spent time with my childhood friend Rose and her brood.

The most bittersweet moment of the entire week came at the end of the day we spent in Gulfport visiting my Grandma. She told me how much she missed Grandpa. They were married fifty-four years when he died. They had six children together and went through four overseas deployments. He became Catholic to marry Grandma and she pretended she didn't know he drank light beer outside in the garage. Family was important to them both and they were moved to tears in later years when presented with a picture of all their adult children. My parents would drive over on Saturdays and play cribbage, girls vs. boys, with Grandpa and Grandma.

It still feels like someone is missing when we all get together at Grandma's house. Like something is not quite right. Grandpa's influence is still there, his office, his filing cabinet. His sense of honor and responsibility has passed to his children and, I hope, to his children's children. I miss his kisses and his hugs and the way he fell asleep in his chair after dinner.

Being around my Grandma makes me miss my own nest, my husband, my routine. Being in her home inspires me to create beauty and order to welcome friends and family into a gracious space and host with love. Talking with my aunts and uncles and cousins reminds me that God created family. God created my large family, gave me to my parents, my nuclear unit, for a purpose. I feel reminded of the blessing of a godly heritage and the responsibility to pass that on.