The best part

I love Downton Abbey.

I know.  I'm not alone!

Early on Sunday of this week, I set my table for a gathering of fellow Dowtonians. We were going to enjoy the Downton Abbey movie and then coming to my home for "high tea".  The table held some of the pieces that I had inherited because my mother lived with me - and she brought them having inherited them from her mother.

And from somewhere came a voice.

"You are just like Grandma Nesmith".

I remembered my maternal grandmother's love for entertaining and the many opportunities I had enjoyed helping her with a dinner party.

I loved it!

Later in the day as I enjoyed the movie, I so appreciated the conversation between the Countess Dowager and her granddaughter, Lady Mary.

"You have the best part of me".

My mind went quickly back to the morning experience.

Grandma was more than a good hostess.  She was a great cook (especially yeast rolls), was very caring for others (took in elderly persons and helped them so much in their dying days) and I believe was a very supportive wife to our granddaddy (although she never imagined he would become a minister almost 25 years into their marriage).

However, I did get her love of entertaining.

My paternal grandmother was a quick-witted little lady.  She had the uncanny ability to make each of her 8 grandchildren believe they were her favorite.  And she loved shoes!

And now I am wondering. Which part of me do my grandchildren have?

It could be my love of shoes, my appreciation for words, or yes - my love of the Florida Gators.  It could be my love for Scripture or music, and yes - for entertaining.

But what I'd want them to have - something I appreciate about me - is passion.  If I believe it - you know it!

That's also what Mary's granny believed to be her best part.

I think I'm in good company!

Daddy's last gift - almost

When I remember my words, I shudder.

So selfish was I!

My parents and I were enjoying dinner and somehow the conversation turned to what we knew was daddy's death.  In January 2009, daddy realized his days were numbered and he began making preparations.  He gave Lester the checkbook, added my name to the title of his 2003 Saturn, and in late August he made the decision to no longer be given blood transfusions.

He knew that meant his days on earth were soon over.

Back to the conversation, I think in May or June.

"I don't want to be here when you die".

I still can't believe I actually said that.  My reasoning is that I would be trying to console mother, get my siblings on the phone all the while surely sobbing my heart out.

And so it was that on the morning of September 16, 2009, my daddy  asked me - not once, but three times, "are you not going to work today?"  Later I learned that he had also asked my mother if there was anything left for them to talk about.

I did go to work.  Just after lunch my son, Tray, called me.  By this time, Tray had been coming three times a day to help care for his granddaddy.

"Mom, you need to come home. Granddaddy is not doing so hot".

Within the hour our Jacksonville family and two ministers and a Hospice nurse had gathered by his bedside.

In the late afternoon, daddy died.

In fact, I'm the one who whispered to the Hospice nurse - I think he's gone.

So what happened to the not wanting to be there when he died.  Our Hospice team had helped me understand what was going to happen.  I felt more prepared.

I never told daddy.

Which is why he wanted to know about my plans for that day.  He was making a valiant effort to give his firstborn child a gift.  He wanted to honor my request.

So although he tried, he wasn't able to give that final gift to me. At least not the one he thought he was giving.

But a wonderful gift - I will always be grateful to be in the room when my daddy went to Heaven!

It's like my mother always says  "Romans 8:28 is still in the Book".

May your life be filled with enough Sunshine 

to make you appreciate the Shadows