Tuesday, November 20, 2007

I've a Mother There

My grandmother passed away a year ago today. She is a beautiful woman who loves her husband, her children, and her God. I wish to pay tribute to her. Most of you who will read this have never known her. But you know me, and she is one of the women who has had the greatest impact on me. I hope you will indulge me as I share some memories of my grandma.

I remember going to play at Grandma’s house when I was a little girl. I remember being fascinated with her method of recycling paper. Grandma had this box that used to be a case of bananas, and she would put all the junk mail and waste paper in her office in this box. As a child it was wonderful to be able to paw through the “banana box.” I found scratch paper, sweepstakes offers, and even a letter from some department store regarding a boycott that Grandma had threatened because the store was selling profane materials. Even when the cardboard box was replaced by a blue plastic bin, I still called it the “banana box.” I think it was sometimes the first thing I went for when I got to Grandma’s house. It was my childhood treasure box.

I remember when Grandma and Grandpa bought the property where they now live. At first, it was “Grandma and Grandpa’s property.” Then we just called it “The Property.” It took a little adjusting when they started building a house there to call it “Grandma and Grandpa’s house.” I remember sledding down the hill at the property and having hot chocolate using hot water from the giant thermos at the bottom of the hill, and putting snow in the cocoa to cool it off.

I remember when Grandma would sing. Sometimes Grandpa would call on her to bear her testimony in church, and she would get up and bear testimony is the most beautiful way she knew how--through her music. I remember her beautiful clear soprano voice as she bore her simple testimony of her Redeemer:

I know that my Redeemer lives

What comfort this sweet sentence gives

He lives! He lives who once was dead!

He lives, my ever-living Head.

Sometimes at the end of a song her voice would go up in a flourish. I remember, as a child, thinking how beautiful her vibrato was, and wishing I could sing like she did. We miss her voice as we gather around the piano to sing hymns together as a family. Grandma taught us to sing, and to love each other--she gave us our choir. And she taught us of God--she gave us a reason to be a choir, to sing His praises. Our choir is now incomplete--we are missing our high soprano. But I know that she is singing with another choir, and I'm sure they appreciated the addition of her beautiful voice.

My grandma was a woman of very simple faith. She was the picture of grace and goodness. I miss her. I am sorry that she was taken from us so early.
But I bear witness, though less beautifully than she did, that my Savior lives. I know that through His Atonement I will see her again, that I will be resurrected, that through the sealing power given to Peter and restored in these last days, I will be united with her.
I love my Savior. I know He lives:

He lives, to silence all my fears

He lives, to wipe away my tears

He lives, and grants me daily breath

He lives, and I shall conquer death

Oh, sweet, the joy this sentence gives:

I know that my Redeemer lives!

(Samuel Medley, Hymns, 136)


  1. My grandfather recently left us. Wish I'd known him better. I hear rumor that his story would make a good page-turner . . .if he had ever spoken about himself. Liked to remain anonymous when and if he performed a good deed.

  2. This is beautiful Amy. Thanks for sharing your thoughts about your grandmother.