Share this Post
Yesterday, my cousin posted a memory of our Gramma on Facebook. It was a sweet prayer that Gramma had tucked into her favorite Bible. Throughout the comments, some of her other grandchildren had posted memories of her lovable traits.
I found myself choking back tears as I remembered how much I loved her. She died 15 years ago this month after a long battle with dementia caused by multiple strokes. Somehow, it seems like yesterday. I didn’t get to go to her funeral. The pain of that bothers me even now.
The night before she died, my husband and I went into the church auditorium where he worked. He hooked up the sound system and we recorded music for her funeral. I played the sleek, black concert grand, while my husband accompanied me on a song or two at the keyboard. It was some of the hardest music-making I’ve ever done, but for a few seconds, I felt one last, brief connection with her. My Gramma. My role model. Read more…