May 13, 2008
Josephine
My grandmother died today.
I said goodbye to her on Saturday night, sitting at her bedside holding her hand. I stroked the paper thin skin on her arm and watched her tiny chest rise up and down as she slowly struggled more and more to breathe. Her eldest daughter sat beside me; her second eldest daughter across the bed. I felt very privileged to be sitting there with them as they waited out their mother's final goodbye. We talked and told stories. We cried. Aunt Sissy said that every time MeMe heard my voice, she'd open her eyes. I believe she knew it was me holding her hand; that I was there beside her.
On Sunday morning I woke up beside my husband, we packed up the car and began the 14 hour drive to Minnesota. It was a tough decision, whether to stay or go, but I knew my grandmother would say that my place was beside my husband and there was no way I should allow him to come to our new home alone.
The past few days, my first days as a housewife, I've thought about her a lot. What it was like for her, a young married mother at age 16, working alongside her new husband on his parents' farm. What that must have been like for her.
This move up North was challenging; combining households and dogs and lifestyles has been a tough start. But I haven't had to carry water up from the creek, or milk cows or wash my husband's work overalls on a scrub board. I haven't had to wrap my babies up tight from the cold before going out to tend to animals and crops. I'll never have to wash my hair in rain water or wait till my 25th wedding anniversary for a diamond ring.
Her life was hard. She worked dawn to dusk for decades and decades. She raised seven children and in her final years had to bury three. She was the last of the last: all her siblings, friends and in laws went before her.
But she died an old, old woman tucked warmly in her bed. She was kissed goodbye by her daughters, her granddaughters, her grandsons, her great-grandchildren and even a couple of great-great-grandsons.
When I walked down the aisle 11 days ago, I wore a tiny gold wedding band on my pinky finger. It was the ring my grandfather placed on her hand almost 84 years ago. My life is her legacy. She was my love and though I can hardly believe her heart no longer beats and though my heart is now broken, I know she is with Jesus and he is loving her more than I ever did.
Josephine Novella Morrow Hall
March 2, 1908 - May 13, 2008
Posted by hannah at 04:23 PM
