Dear Grandma

 As I walk through a year of firsts without my Grandma around, there are times and things that I reflect on. Tonight as I sit I'm reflecting on Easter and memories around it. Choosing to remember the good.

This post is the form of a letter to my Grandma.

Dear Grandma,

Today was Easter Sunday. I thought of you a lot today. The first Easter Sunday without you . . . except it had already been a few years since you were able to be at church or our family gathering. Not just because of COVID, the last few years, but even before that. Son, in some ways it was the first resurrection Sunday without you, and in other ways it wasn't. But, no matter what, I thought of you a lot today.

As we sang songs pointing to the resurrection and about eternity with Jesus, I pictured you today. Standing in Jesus' presence today. No more body or mind failing you. In the presence of your Savior forevermore. I could almost hear your voice singing praises to God, as I know you always loved to do here. 

In the midst of all the things we do on holidays, you always made sure we were reminded of the real reason why we gathered to celebrate. You always made sure we didn't forget. You pointed us to Jesus. On Easter Sunday, you pointed us to the empty tomb and our risen Savior.

As my Mom & I made the potatoes and got the ham ready, my mind was filled with memories of you in your kitchen. Always busy getting something ready, making sure nothing was missed for dinner. Even in your busy-ness of making sure it was all ready on time, you welcomed us grandkids into your kitchen to help. As we got older, I'm sure we actually helped, but sometimes I wonder if in those early years, we made more work for you by helping. Yet, you didn't turn us away when we wanted to help - you found something we could do.

As we sat at the table to eat together, I missed the large family gatherings at your house. This one was smaller . . . just 7 of us this day. It's been that way for a while. You were unable to come already by the time the thing happened that shrunk our family gatherings so much. I know that family was so important to you. As much as having us all in your house all day wore you out, I also remember the smile on your face when we all squeezed together to fit around the table. 

(And I remember how anyone in your reach had to watch their plate carefully. You never knew when you would decide someone hadn't eaten enough and would add more food to their plate when they weren't looking.)

Even, as I served my food today. I dutifully took at least one scoop of everything on the table. The "no thank you" helping (you always had to take one scoop of every dish on the table, no matter what, even if you didn't like it or didn't think you would) that was the rule at your house while I was growing up, still directs me when I'm serving food. I wasn't a fan of that rule as a kid, but it has served me well as an adult.

As we put the paska (Mennonite Easter bread), on the table after dinner, I noticed that no one had gotten the sprinkles out yet. I had to go and find them before we could eat it. I remembered how you always made sure there was an abundance of them on the paska before you served it. I never understood why, and I really still don't, but paska was always served with icing and sprinkles (yes, on bread . . . a sweet bread, but bread). And I will always eat it that way.

Today, I missed you. I missed your smile, your laugh, your hugs. I missed hearing you sing with joy as you celebrated our risen Savior. 

But, I know you were celebrating in a way I can only imagine right now. A way you weren't able to for so many years at the end. And that brings me joy in the midst of tears because you're not here with us anymore.

Love you always, 

Tamara