It's been a somber day. One filled with reflection, remembrance and pride.
There are two dates that stand out in the past couple of days. The 9th and the 11th.
My grandmother, affectionately named Grammy, was born on September 9, 1939. She died September 29, 2000. Irony in those dates. She was an amazing woman. One with courage and fierceness that many only dream of possessing. It was breast cancer that claimed her life, but it was faith that marked it. She never lost faith, even in the face of chemotherapy and despair.
The effects of her absence, of course, have lessened over the years. And living days without her have gotten easier. It's in the milestones of my life that I long for her, but I know how proud she would be of me in this moment.
Her birthday was filled with memories. Memories from both ends of the spectrum, but on that day I thanked the Lord upon every remembrance of the beautiful woman that was my grandmother. I thank him now for the remembrance of her beautiful face, her charming heart, and the light that always seemed to shine even in her darkest hour. Even when she could not remember our names or recognize our faces, when the cancer had claimed her brain...even then, her light was extraordinary.
When she passed I would often sit on our porch and watch the yellow roses that bloomed in our planter. That winter for some reason the rose bush died and in the Spring it didn't bloom again. I was devastated, because those yellow roses became a symbol of the woman she was. And so, time went on, and a year later in the Spring a beautiful and majestic rose bud popped up from the ground. It wasn't yellow anymore, no it was red. But those red roses were the most amazing gift of love from my Papa, a gift that let me know it was time to stop grieving.
Ironically enough, yellow roses symbolize gladness, friendship, joy, and the promise of new beginnings. What a new beginning I received.
And so, today the remembrance of 9/11 comes back to me. It was so close after losing my grandmother that the state of our nation changed forever. It was a defining moment of my generation; and a defining moment in my grief.
It is today that I can look upon my grandmother's memory and my nation and reflect at what transpired, remember the emotions and the loss, and feel proud. Proud to have known a woman so full of Jesus and proud of my country's courage in the face of tragedy.
We may live in a fallen world, but we also live beside people who shine bright in it's darkness. I am so blessed to have been born in America, and so blessed to live in a place that allows men and women like my grandmother to shine without fear of death. I'm so extremely overwhelmed with gratitude today and I know words can not express the joy I have to be the granddaughter of Thelma Barton, and a citizen of the United States.
God Bless.
Philippians 1:3 (NKJ)
"I thank my God upon every remembrance of you"
