Every time someone I know dies I can’t help but contemplate my own mortality.  My Grandmother passed away this morning.  I can’t say I really knew her all that well but I did grow up with her around.  We saw each other fairly often but I wouldn’t really call her friendly.  She was a loner and kept to herself.  She went peacefully which I’m thankful for.  I know she has siblings that welcomed her to heaven.  There will be no service.  My dad said they are cremating her body and will place it in a plot with her parents later this summer.  Part of me really wishes there was a service.  No one made much time for her while she was alive and it just seems like she deserves someone making time to honor her in her death.  Such is not the case it seems.  I regret not visiting her in March when we were near her.  She never met my youngest two children – it had been about 8 years since I’d seen her.  She got the obligatory pictures in the mail but that was about it.  I’m not even sure she could see enough to make out the people.  But, her eyes are working perfectly now.  She doesn’t have to use a walker or worry about people feeding her.  She can swallow again and run laps if she so desires.  I’ll be watching for her to visit and say hi sometime. 

It makes me think of my own funeral.  What will I want?  What will I not want?   I know I do not want people sitting around crying and talking about how sad they are I’m gone.  I want them to look through my scrapbooks (after all, my family is my life) and say that we had fun times.  I want them to bring bright flowers and release butterflies into the air.  I want songs to be sung – not uptight boring songs but happy worship filled contemporary worship songs.  I want them to sing the same songs I hum to every day of my life and listen to my husband sing.  I want everyone to know that now I’m up in heaven chatting with God and eating all the food I want and dancing without a care in the world – because I won’t be of the world anymore.    It’s a happy time to see God.  But, I still miss my Grandmother.