Wanda Ward Davis

I have hesitated and put off blogging about my grandmother until I felt the time was right. While I'm never sure that I'll feel right about her death, what I do know is that I need to pay some sort of homage to the woman that she was so that all of you who never knew her could catch a glimpse of what a special woman she was.

My grandmother was a tiny woman who had more energy in her left pinkie toe than anyone that I have ever met, my son excluded. Maybe this is why she and Caleb bonded so well from the very beginning of his life. She was the first we called when we found out we were pregnant and she and Caleb had some sort of bond that I will never understand, this side of heaven. The morning my grandmother had her stroke, she could clearly articulate very few words, but the one that she could always say well was, "Caleb". She loved that boy and talked incessently of him. I could never pretend to think that I know what is going on in heaven, but I have to believe that she is still talking of him, even while she is in glory.

For many people, their grandparents are more of an extended family for them, I had the privilege to grow up less than 10 minutes from their house. In fact, it was my grandparent's house, the very one that my grandfather still resides in, that I was brought home to after my birth. I spent many a day/weekend/holiday evening/night at that house with my grandmother and grandfather that I feel like they are more second parents to me than anything else. I was given the distinct pleasure to have such an important relationship with both of them, particularly her. Now, before I drown here, I wanted to list somethings that I learned from my grandmother, in no particular order:

- never try to make candy on a rainy day.

- scars are to be proud of and she showed me hers all. the. time., because I asked. See, I was screwy from the beginning! :)

- cranberry juice and sprite can fix all things

- nothing is better than having a child play with your hair, even if she insists on getting the brush stuck every single time

- everything in your house should be for enjoying, not just for looking

- installing a lock on the bottom of your back door for children to play with for hours on end is a-ok

- sewing, and doing it well, is an art form

- it's not all about what you have, but who you have in your life

- pecan pie something that anyone can make, even yours truely, a person who can hardly bake store bought cookie dough

- it is ok if you have dishes in your sink and laundry in the hamper, just enjoy your kids because the time is fleeting

- you can be blessing to people, even if you are confined to a bed

- there is no better joy than giving joy to others.

I love my grandmother so much and am still having a really hard time believing that she is gone. It is still so very hard and strange to be in my grandparent's house and know she won't ever be there again, even though she hasn't been there for nearly 2 years. She was my friend and my confidant. I am a better person to have known her and I am blessed to have called her my grandmother.

(I'm not proofing this post, so if it is somewhat disjointed and rambling, it is what it is. These were my thoughts just days after her death and I would like to just record them for posterity.)