Eulogy for Grandmother

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Eulogy for Grandmother

The phone call came at 6:45 on the evening of the 16th. At 8:58 I sent out an e-mail message to friends about my Grandmother's death. Many of those friends are former and current church members of congregations I have served as pastor. By the next morning I was receiving e-mail messages back. The ones from former and current church members had a common theme. In addition to expressing their sympathy they all said that they felt they had known my grandmother: "We remember your grandmother from the stories you would tell us of her."

That is the nature of memories. They can be collective, shared, or private. They may be special moments - remembrances of her as a sister, a wife, a mother, or a friend. But, when we share those memories they become a part of someone else. The memories become the possession of others. When the Bible tells us to be kind to foreigners in our midst because we were once slaves in Egypt it assumes we have made that memory our own. We were once slaves in Egypt. The sacred memory has been passed down to us. Today, I want to share just a few memories of my Grandmother.

She was a determined woman. Yes, she was a woman who could be patient, but that was restricted by the limits of her determination. When I was small she decided it was time to clean the attic. She had asked my Grandfather to place the wagon underneath the attic window so she could drop the stuff she wanted to be rid of. Well, my Grandfather was busy with other things. One day she decided she had waited long enough. She went to the attic and opened up the window and began to hurl items from the window. Imagine my surprise to items raining from the sky. Imagine my Grandfather's surprise upon his return.

Then there was the time she was after my Grandfather to clean out the chimney. My Grandfather was up working in the fields when a chimney fire broke out. I was still a baby and my mother picked me up and went running next door to Aunt Mid's house. My Grandmother called the fire department (instead of calling for my Grandfather). My grandfather saw the fire trucks coming up the road from town - followed by cars of just about everybody who lived along the way! My Grandfather saw to it that the chimney stayed clean after that.

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