I consider myself to know a lot of people. Jon sometimes gets frustrated with me because it's near impossible to go anywhere with me and not run into someone I know. Take trips to Wal-Mart, for example. What usually starts out as a well-intentioned 20-minute trip can soon take an hour or two because I run into fellow colleagues, church family, or former and current students.
But, very few people "know" me. I mean, actually KNOW me--my hopes, my fears, my passion for living life to the fullest. Few realize sometimes it takes me a bit of time to process my thoughts enough to put them into coherent writing or conversation. I hold things in; I get frustrated easily. I think constantly; my brain never, ever has a break from processing something I am doing or need to be doing.
So when my uncle asked me last Saturday if I wanted to speak at my grandmother's funeral the next day, I immediately started: THINKING. What to say? I knew I would speak, but I didn't even know where to begin. How do you sum up 30 years with someone whom has indeed had a tremendous role in shaping you into the person you are today? It seemed, at the time, almost impossible.
But God always gives you the words you are appointed to say if you ask Him for guidance. And that, indeed, He did. Of course, not without a tinge of ironic humor. For those of you who have read this blog in the past year or have been in my AP class will immediately recognize the passage below and the book it is from. It's good to laugh, and that is indeed what my grandmother would have done had she known the passage's background.
What follows are the words I dedicated to my grandmother, Wanda Lee Clement, at her funeral on Sunday March 1, 2009...
After Gary asked me yesterday if I wanted to speak today I thought a lot about what I might say. There are so many things I could say, but I think what I have chosen is fitting for me. One of the things Nanny told me just two weeks ago was how thankful she was that the Lord had let her keep her mind and memory in good working order through all her sickness. Many of you can attest to the fact that she was an avid reader, and she loved crossword puzzles and did them all the time throughout the years. She also loved watching Jeopardy and it seemed to me she always knew the answers. So as I was thinking yesterday, a passage from a book my seniors are reading came to me. To me, it’s very fitting. In it, one of the main characters, Nancy, is being described by a friend. I am going to insert “Nanny” where Nancy’s name appears. The friend says,
"I just love her to death. Well everybody does. There isn't anybody like Nanny...One day our teacher told the class, 'Nanny is always in a hurry, but she always has time. And that's one definition of a lady.'"
And that she was. She was a one-of-a-kind lady who was always busy but always made time for those she loved. I am quite sure most of the people in this room have a story about how Wanda, or Mom, or Nanny, made time for them. That was what she did. She was always selflessly giving herself, her time, her love, to serve others. I will remember this about her always.
I will miss her dearly, but I know she is where she belongs. And I know she—and I—wouldn’t have it any other way.
2 comments:
Thought you might find this interesting:
http://gawker.com/5179862/nicholas-hughes-son-of-sylvia-plath-commits-suicide
I didn't hear about your Grandma until I read this blog. I can't remember who said this, but "It's no use worrying for the dead. They're better off than you and I." Or, you know, something to that effect.
Anywho, the quote is from Capote, right?
Miss ya, Krieg. Maybe I'll kidnap myself and Effie so we can come for a visit soon.
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