“Grace” seems to be my word of the week. I guess that makes me a good Methodist, huh?
Last night when I was praying, I asked that we would find grace in this first day of transition, and that we would each feel God as close as skin, filling every dark corner with the light of His love…
And I’ll be ate for a tater if he didn’t do exactly that. I was feeling so afraid of what today would be like for our family, but as it turns out… It was okay. It was, maybe, actually, good. She’s moved in to her new home with her quilts and photos and a new Whitman’s Sampler.
She has a roommate who knew she and my grandfather back in the day when he was a county supervisor for many years and this lady worked in the courthouse. They have spa days on Thursdays where they can get manicures and pedicures. There is a “restaurant” where dinner is served and we can join her any time we like. There’s coffee time each mid-morning, there’s a quilting club and art classes and a hair salon. And just next door is an old friend of mama’s, who promises to check in on my sweet Mammaw every day. And while Mammaw seemed a bit uncertain about it all, she certainly didn’t seem agitated or upset with anyone. It made my heart leap for joy when she answered the simple question, “How was dinner?” with, “VERY good.” If the food is good, she’ll be pretty pleased to be there, in a nutshell. We all went by and spent time with her throughout the day and night, and I hope that makes it all feel more familiar a little bit more each day.
Afterward, Ben and I told mama and daddy not to lift a finger for supper—we would surprise them with their favorite carry outs from town. Panda (daddy) and Papa John’s (mama).
And somehow, in the middle of upheaval, it didn’t feel like such an upheaval. We laughed, and ate too much, and watched Downton Abbey, all knowing my grandmother is safe and cared for.
I don’t think we could have asked for a more graceful transition today, friends.
So thankful for your prayers and well wishes. It made all the difference. Truly.