Virginia

Two weekends ago, I spent a couple days at home with my family. Nothing is more refreshing than leaving school for a bit and spending a few days laughing to the point of tears with your best friends. I can't even begin to stress how true it is when they say you always find your way back home. I've only been gone two years and I look forward to the day when I have the freedom to go back whenever I want.

Since I've been gone for the past 2 years, I haven't been able to see family as much as I wanted, but probably a lot more than some. It's a blessing and a curse. Included in those who I haven't seen is a little lady named Virginia Channels- my great grandma. I spent a few hours at her house Saturday, but it didn't really go how I wanted it to. You see, ideally, I would have liked to stop by for a visit, played a few games of Skip-Bo or Boggle, and ate a lunch that was no doubt pulled from a freezer- maybe even the same frozen waffles I used to often eat for breakfast. I would have preferred sitting in the rocker across from grandma's and spending hours listening to her talk about her latest puzzle, or stories from the past, all of which I'd probably heard 100 times, while taking in the smells around me- the smells of moth balls and the distinct scent that always accompanied her house. Ideally, I would have spent the time shouting at her, wondering why she refused to turn up her hearing aids (or use batteries that weren't older than she), but sharing laughs all the same. I might have stolen a cookie from the third drawer down in the cabinet next to the sink, or glanced over her stamp collection with her.

But grandma wasn't there. She had to leave, and I can't help but think to myself "how rude of her to leave us like that." Instead of getting to do all of those things I would have liked to do, I spent my time at her house going through her belongings, hoping to find those items I could hold in my hands and remember her by, because as I went room to room, finding my memories scattered around, I had no choice but to realize grandma wasn't coming back.

I walked to the back bedroom (the red room), and picked up a seashell. It was the one she had specifically left to me. I vividly remember a time when I was younger that I asked grandma if I could have that seashell, and she said no, but reassured me that when she died, I could have it. That was probably a dozen years ago, but she remembered. I walked downstairs to search through her quilting supplies to find the little squares she let me choose from when she helped me sew my first "quilt." I feel overwhelmingly blessed to have that little blanket. There on the table sat her sewing machine, which probably hadn't been touched in entirely too long, but it was there that she taught me to sew, an art I feel would soon be lost if it weren't for grandmas passing it on.

We all continued through the house, each finding different things that were reminiscent of time past, and making little piles of those things that reminded us of both grandma and grandpa. They left those items behind for us, mostly because they couldn't take them with them. Why would they want to anyways? Because although I felt so broken both when my grandpa, and when my grandma passed on, I don't blame them.

At 92 years old, my grandma confidently passed into the arms of her Savior, and I find peace in knowing she was ready to go. Everything in the house labeled, her diaries full of entries from as early as 14, and an obituary written and ready in the drawer. Along with her obituary was a list of everything that needed to be said, and sung, at her funeral. Gosh how incredible it is that she was so confident in where she was headed that she planned her own funeral.

So not only did grandma leave us all the great memories, but a lifetime to learn from. One of grandma's favorite things was butterflies. She requested they be included on and in her casket. She felt that butterflies portrayed her transformation as a person when she accepted God as her Savior as a teenager. I can't help but laugh if I think of my grandma as a catepillar, which is honestly just a little strange, but as for a butterfly- I don't think there is a better of God's creatures that could be used to represent her and her beautiful soul.

These words probably mean nothing to someone who never met her, but for those who did, what a blessing I'm sure (I hope) it was. I know that in part because of her influence that when my time comes, I too will go to the indescribable place she is now, and I hold tight to that thought and find peace.

"Butterflies Hover and Feathers Appear whenever

 Lost Loved Ones and Angels are Near."