My Grandma

My Grandma has been with Jesus for six years. It's been six years since I sat with her at her table in her kitchen. It's been six years since we've played Yahtzee and then had a cup of tea while watching Everybody Loves Raymond.
I miss her every day. I miss her when I look at Squirrel and see her in his eyes. I miss her when I'm lonely. I miss her when I feel like there is no one left to talk to. Because she always understood.

I think of the way she was when I was a little girl, sitting at her organ. When she was a little girl she wanted to play an instrument. It was war time, and in those times there was no money for an instrument, let alone music lessons. Her only doll she ever owned was sold to feed the family. The ration cards were never enough.

She was born at the start of the depression and her childhood ended when she married, a few months after the war was over. Her grandmother suffered a stroke on her wedding day, and died a few days after. She was only 17 when she sewed her most valuable jewelry into the hem of her dress and came to Canada as war bride in 1945. The marriage didn't work out in the end and she went back to Belguim. She would return to Canada again to stay, when she met, and married my Grandfather.

She had five children, her only daughter is my Mama.

My grandma made me feel special. She once told me that I deserved a man that would hold me in his hand, like a delicate little bird that I was. She knew me better than anybody. I could tell her anything.

My heart hurts when I think that she didn't live to see my wedding day. I'm sad that she will never meet her great-grandsons in this lifetime.

My heart rejoices though, because I know that she is rejoicing with our King. She is with the grandchildren she never got to hold because they left us before they were born. She is safe, and she is warm. The horrific memories that would torment her throughout her life have died with her body.

She is healed, and full and new again.

Simone Marie Sully
February 1, 1929 - June 6, 2004