That's the name Makayla calls Great Grandmother Canady (my dad's mom...but you figured that out already). GreatMother Canady is THE one you think of when you think of what a grandmother is supposed to be.
(and yes...Stewart....I did "take" this pic from you...but I love it)
Grandmother Canady was without a doubt, the gentlest, soft-spoken, servant of God you will EVER meet. The idea of a swear word from this woman was, "Oh foot!". That was it.
The smallest things tickled her. She was SO interested in everything we had to say...even if she didn't understand...or even if she didn't "hear ALL the words" we said. After a story from my dad, she would almost always answer with a, "Lord Randy, you know not!" (Randy of course is Dad's name).
She loved telling us about her "score" at bingo that week. One week she won kleenexes, the week before that...soda! She was a master at that game.
Thirsty? Go ahead and get one of them Co-Colers out of the fridge. (and of course it was usually the glass bottles...very trendy and cool).
At lunch today, the grandchildren talked about her "palettes". You see, when you went to visit Grandmother, and you spent the night, you got to sleep on a palette. A palette was a complex system of quilts and blankets...stacked in a particular way on the floor. This engineering marvel was topped with a "piller" and a top sheet....and don't you know, that was one of the best places to sleep. And even though Grandmother snored, it was still a great experience.
And there are only a few people in history that I can think of that had the servant's heart that my Grandmother had. She never wanted the spotlight (not even sure she would have enjoyed all the attention she got today). Many, many years ago when Grandaddy was sick and in the nursing home...she was there EVERYDAY. Holding his hand, doing his laundry, whispering "it's going to be okay" in his ear when all he could do is shout "Rosa MAE!" at the top of his lungs...not able to say much else. It was her duty and privilege to serve. Even if deep down inside she thought it was a chore, I never knew. I think about some of my darkest days, 4 years ago when I was caring for a sick wife with cancer AND a newborn baby girl, Grandmother Canady was the model of servanthood that I had. It wasn't about her and it wasn't about me.
This past Friday, Heaven welcomed one of their most prized angels in my Grandmother. We love you and miss you already, Grandmother.
For a much more eloquent blog entry about Rosa Mae, visit my cousin, Stewart's blog here.
