The world seemed a little gray this week. My husband received the news late Monday morning that his beloved grandmother, (his father's mother) Dixie “Fay” Thomason Palmer had fallen asleep in death. I met Grandmother for the first time just over five years ago. I loved her from the moment I met her. A classy and true southern “lady” with just enough “fire” to keep things interesting, she was someone I knew I would cherish for all of my life.
This, of course, is a sad time to all of those that will miss Grandmother. But there is much celebration in the life she lived while upon this earth. She had 95 long and happy years surrounded by precious friends and an amazing family. I believe two of the greatest joys in life are loving and being loved. There is no doubt that Grandmother was blessed with much love and that we were all blessed with hers.
She must have told me close to ten stories the second time I met her. Each story was more detailed than the next. Needlesstosay, I knew my husband much deeper upon our departure that day. I told her once that she should have been a writer. She immediately laughed and shook her head as if I were being ridiculous. But I could hear in her voice how much she genuinely loved telling stories from times past or events in which she found of particularly great humor.
My own dear, sweet grandfather was a storyteller as well. Listening to Corey’s grandmother always brought back fond memories of my childhood, sitting transfixed on my “Grampa” wishing I’d never have to leave his side. As a young adult, I knew that I had only a short amount of time to soak in his words and her his kind voice. I tried to remember every detail of every story he ever told. I did the same in the time that I was fortunate enough to have spent with Grandmother Palmer.
The time I had with her was limited to those five short years. Yet, I will never forget the times and memories we shared together. They are truly precious to me.
Just as Grandmother felt that every detail was as imperative as the next in her storytelling, I truly believe that is the same view she held in life. Each day as important as the day before, and tomorrow as important as today. There were no minute moments. There is a lot to be said for that.
I will miss her dearly and will think of her often. There is no doubt that she will enter my mind each and every time I eat blueberry pancakes, paint a window frame, sew a curtain, or when someone comments on the size of my television. :) Her stories will live on in us. They will be told and retold at family gatherings and bring a smile to many faces. Until we meet again in the resurrection, Grandmother…I will hold you in my heart.
