Hello everyone and welcome back to Deeper Waters where we are diving into the ocean of truth! Last night, I told you all about my grandmother and asked for prayers for her. I received the word from my parents this morning that my grandmother passed away this morning. My wife and I will be out of town this coming week so don’t expect a new blog for awhile. I invite you all to go to the Tekton Ticker however this Tuesday for my review of Mike Licona’s book “The Resurrection of Jesus: A New Historiographical Approach.”
For now, I’d like to remember my grandmother. My grandmother was known as Miss Purple. She always wore something with purple in it every day. She loved purple. Her house was the only house with a purple toilet, purple, sink, and purple carpet that I knew of.
I also called her Mommom always. My parents were trying to teach me how to say “Mamaw” and it came out Mommom. It’s a name that stuck. Whenever I’ve heard about anyone else using that name to describe their grandmother, I’ve somehow felt as if I’ve been robbed of something.
My grandmother was part of that great noble career known as teaching and she taught elementary school. Her students remembered her years later, even so that when she was in assisted living and in the nursing home, people would come by and see Miss Purple.
Wherever she went, she was popular. Everyone loved my grandmother. Her room at any of the places she went was the most visited room of all. Everyone loved my grandmother. I can’t think of a single enemy she had. She could be argumentative and stubborn at times, but you just had to love her.
She lived next door to her sister and I often visited both of them regularly when I was a child. My grandmother and I would watch Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy together. She especially hated watching Wheel of Fortune with me in some ways since I could often solve the puzzles long before she could. I remember the time I went to see her and she said she’d been working on a word in the Jumble for three days only to have me solve it in fifteen seconds. She’d say she hated it, but she also delighted in it. She wanted her grandson to succeed.
My grandmother always delighted in seeing me when I came by. I always teased her about my parents’ cat. I have no idea how it started, but there was a joke made about the cat calling my grandmother “Mamaw Granny.” Now she always insisted that the cat said “Mommom.” We checked though. It was “Mamaw Granny.”
My grandmother was eccentric as could be. I’m a diagnosed Aspie and we suspected she probably had some of the condition herself. She would hold on to items for the longest time. This even meant having pheasant feathers in her attic in the early 80’s where she had once thought about making a hat with those feathers.
My grandmother was very big on manners, so much so however that to his day, I have a hard time saying “Please.” That’s what happens when someone strong on manners has a grandchild who has a bent of a rebellious spirit in him. Still, she meant well as all grandmothers do.
And of course, my grandmother was a devout Christian who would call me with Bible questions. Her husband had passed away 27 years ago. She’s been without him for awhile but today, my grandmother is one step closer to him waiting for the resurrection. We will have much to be thankful for this Thanksgiving. She lived a good life and her battle is over.
Love you and miss you Mommom, and little Reagan loves and misses his Mamaw Granny.
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