They left a legacy built on the solid rock.

Their footsteps led the way to the firm foundation.

Their faith in Jesus you could see in the way they lived.

They knew the greatest gift that they could give

Was the legacy of heaven.

I wrote those lyrics and sang them for the first time 11 years ago.  One year ago  I sang it at my grandmother’s funeral.

Let me be frank for a moment – my grandmother was not perfect and there were times that we drove each other crazy.  But she loved me, of that I’m sure.  Sometimes she struggled to know how to show it but she got it right often enough that I know she loved me.

It’s strange the things I miss most now that she’s gone.

The bulletins she sent me every week when I was college; just so I would know what was going on in my home church.

Meeting her (and occasionally a co-worker) at the local restaurant for “coffee” after I got out of school and she got out of work.  It wasn’t really a big event.  Just myself, my grandmother, and another woman I’ve known most of my life enjoying a refreshment after a day of responsibility.

The women’s bible study she used to hold in her home that she allowed her teen-aged granddaughter to be a part of.

The tin with saltine crackers in it.

The laundry hanging on the line in her side yard.

The rocking horse that I used as a child.  My children also used it.

Her love of onion sandwiches and bran cereal with orange juice on it instead of milk.

“Doing” corn at the end of garden season.

The Christmas Village she set up every year.

I loved her, am proud to have been named after her, chose to share her middle name with one of my daughters and miss her terribly.  Many people were glad to call her friend.  I was lucky enough to be related to her.

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