Recently, my wife's grandmother passed away. To all of us in the family, and many outside it, she was "Gram". Everywhere she went, she made connections with people that they would never forget. To this day, there are still people who met Gram at our wedding that will ask me, "How's Gram?", whenever I bump into them. And as I relay the news to those people the next time I see them, there will be genuine disappointment in their eyes as they say they are sorry to hear it.
Gram lived to be 92. She saw a lot in her lifetime. In all the years I knew her, the one thing that most defined her to me was her interest in people. When I first met her, she had me take her arm, and we went down to the family room to sit by the fire and chat for what must have been nearly 2 hours. What she did to me, and to so many others that she ran into for the first time, was to ask a lot of questions. She always wanted to know who you were, where you were from, where your family is from, what you do, and a whole host of other questions that would spring from those. And then she would tell you about herself, which inevitably led to some funny story about the latest event in her life. When I met her, she was still telling the story of "the shawl". I think that is the story that made her the life of the party for a handful of the attendees at our wedding.
No matter what you talked about, though, there was sure to be laughter. Gram loved to laugh, and she had one of the best laughs I've ever encountered. She would tilt her head back, lean toward you, put her hand on your arm, and dive right into this great big belly laugh that would shake her whole body. It was contagious.
Over the years, we often chuckled at the many times Gram would start asking questions of perfect strangers, leading them into a series of laughter and funny stories that those people would always mention if we ever saw them again. Door men, flight attendants, friends, relatives... it didn't matter who you were, she'd ask you questions and tell you stories and make you part of her life.
Even to the end, this trend held true. A doctor who came to check on her in the last days at hospice got "the grilling" about who she was, whether she had any family, how old she was, etc.... And she wasn't afraid to give her advice either. "You've been doing this for 35 years?! You need to retire and live life a little. It's later than you think." In that brief encounter, even that doctor was so touched by Gram's interest in her as a person that she later referred to it again. And that is why people everywhere never forgot "Gram", or "Anna" as many of them knew her.
A few nights after we arrived in Pennsylvania for the funeral, Mary Beth's family was all gathered in the family room to go through the questionnaire that the parish sends out to gather info about a deceased person so that a priest will know something about them before the funeral. The resident priest, who certainly knew Gram well enough not to need this, was out of town and we would have a visiting priest to do the funeral, so we needed to go through this. Although we were going to go around the room and give answers to the questions for Kerry to record, we ended up just telling stories, reminiscing, and sharing the things that we had learned from Gram. It was a great bonding experience. And throughout this time together, there was a lot of laughter.
Certainly, like every one of us, Gram had her rough spots and faults. Everyone in that room knew most of them, some all too well. However, as we talked and laughed and cried, all those things were forgotten and forgiven... passed into memory like the leaves of autumn. And what remained was the laughter, the love, and the memories of generosity, care, and concern. To be quite honest, it all felt like a foretaste of heaven. I couldn't help but wonder if, somehow, our individual times of judgment would be like this... with Christ, the angels, the saints, and perhaps some of our deceased loved ones gathered around to discuss with us what our lives had become in our time on earth.
I suddenly understood the passage from the Bible, "love covers a multitude of sins", in a whole new light. While there were hurts and faults that each of us remembered, the love and laughter she had shared far outshone those things, for we all have faults and sins, but not all of us have love. That love was what we remembered and shared as we discussed Gram's life.
This had an impact on me and made me reflect on my own life. Everywhere Gram went, she left behind a trail of laughter. What kind of trail am I leaving behind? If I died today, would my loved ones sit around and forget my many faults and failings, telling stories of the times I had made them laugh or feel loved? Or would they sit around and talk about the weather and the sports for lack of anything positive to say?
For, while we were passing over Gram's rough spots in light of the far greater memories of love and laughter, surely there are many who leave behind nothing but a trail of pain, sorrow, and bitter memories. And now I realized how sad it must be at their passing, for if there is no love to cover their multitude of sins, is that the surest sign that their salvation is unlikely? Some theologians say that, in heaven, we will not mourn the lost because it will be to us as if they never were. Is this experience the key to understanding that assertion? We forgot Gram's faults, or at least found the lesser ones cause for further humor and laughter, and we were left with many happy memories. But what of those for whom there are only unhappy memories? As the memory of those faults passes, and there is nothing left afterwards, will it be that they will pass entirely out of memory as their loved ones go on to heaven, so that it was as if they never were?
So I ask myself (and I encourage you, reader, to do likewise): what kind of trail am I leaving behind? Will there be a gathering of friends and family to laugh and share stories of me at my passing, or will they simply forget me and move on with their lives, with no hope of ever seeing me again? What in my life is of lasting worth, that will live beyond the passing of this frail, temporal frame? Love covers a multitude of sins, and there must I begin, keeping the end ever in mind.
That night after having that discussion, I had a vision flash into my mind of Gram seeing her deceased daughter and husband in heaven, letting out her "belly laugh", filled with unspeakable joy, and running to embrace them. I pray that when I pass from this life, there will be enough love in my life to carry into eternity, that there will be someone waiting to embrace me as well, and that there will be those who sit around together and laugh, looking forward to the day when we will be reunited.
Peace,
Todd Russell
January 23, 2011
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