What a glorious day. As Alfred Lord Tennyson once said “you could bottle the air and sell it for sixpence a pint”. Breathe deeply people – the rains are coming.
Now, grab your pipe and slippers, settle into your favorite armchair beside the fire, and allow me to tell you about my Grandmother.
Her name was Beryl – one of the jewels which is named as a foundation stone of the New Jerusalem. And she was wonderful. If you know who Margaret Rutherford is – she gives a flavor of the sheer splendidness that was Granny.
Aaaanyway, back to Granny. I loved her very much BUT as youngsters my siblings and I got terribly frustrated with her. She would never say a bad word about anybody and we could never understand why she spent so much time listening to dullards, befriending very emotionally needy people, welcoming visitors who were friends of friends who needed a place to stay. Man, it was annoying. She was SO nice to EVERYBODY and for some reason we found it galling to say the least. I now realize of course that she showered that same grace and unconditional love on me – only I accepted it as my due. I’m very grateful for such an example in my life. When she died some of her last words to me were “I’m ready, I’ve done my job”. I hope I’m as sure of my obedience as that. Interestingly enough, a few years after she died, my sister absolutely swears she saw her standing beside the road, holding a letter and waving at her. One last attempt at communication for the sister who hasn’t accepted the possibility of everlasting life? Maybe.