Monday, April 30, 2012

Bea.




I got a call three weeks ago that my grandmother did not have long to live.
Bea is my real father's mother.
And I have not seen or talked to him in almost 3 years.
She passed away this past Tuesday.
I knew there was no question if I would go to her funeral.

I just looked up the meaning of her name, Beatrice.
"bringer of joy."
And that was my Bea. 
One of my favorite acrostics for JOY is:
Jesus
Others
Yourself.
This is how she lived her life.

My Bea was a loving wife, amazing mother, daughter, sister, grandmother and friend.
But, she loved the Lord the most.
She lived a simple life.
A life of contentment.
A life of thankfulness.
A life of giving.  And not taking.

One thing that hurt her more than anything was that her son (my dad) was not a good father.
She would tell me every.single.time.i.saw.her.
"I am so sorry he is the way he is.  If it is my fault, I am so sorry."
This was my Bea.
I believe she prayed faithfully everyday for my dad to change.
That is what mothers do.
Pray for their children.

One of her other prayers was that she would be able to stay at home until the Lord called her Home.
And let me tell you.
He honored her prayers.

She passed away at home in her bed. On the farm she loved.  In her sleep.
My nephew said it best, "how amazing that she went to bed and woke up in Heaven."
Oh, sweet Bea.
Yesterday at her funeral, in the visitation room, my father apologized to me. 
He asked me for forgiveness.
He told me he had missed me.  
He hugged me.

And the fear?
Left.
Gone.

I imagine that Bea also prayed for me.
That the Lord would provide.
That I would believe His Promises.
The Lord answered her prayers.

I took pictures of the farm before we left for the funeral.
I took a picture of the bird feeders.
She loved birds.
So do I.
She loved hummingbirds.
I love Cardinals.


Oh, and do you see that beautiful old orange tractor..
Yep.  She drove that thing.
She bush hogged.  She took care of her farm.
She loved nature.
And I believe that is where she meet God.
Where she praised God.
In good times.
And in bad.

She was determined.  Hardworking.  Loving.  Patient.  Kind.  Giving.  Faithful.  Inspiring.  Simple.  Not complicated.  Her smile lit up the room.  Her laughter was contagious.
My Bea.
She knew how to live.
All the way to the end.
Praising the Lord.
Thanking Him.
Soaking up life.
And giving life to others.
Because of Him.
Who loved her.


1 John 4:7-17 (NLT)


I am continuing my gratitude and linking up with Ann Voskamp.


722.  My precious grandmother, Annie Beatrice Hyde.
723.  old orange tractors.
724.  tears that are caught in bottles.
725.  healing of fears.
726.  this hymn
727.  Promise Box from Bea's house.
728. girl weekend at the beach.
729. friends.
730. summer is almost here.


Thank you, Lord for Your Daily Bread.  Your Promises and Faithfulness never fail.



3 comments:

jeejee said...

Allison, your posts always move me to tears. I am so glad to see you sharing again. God has given you such a gift of writing about what He is doing in your life and it is an inspiration and a witness to those of us privileged to read it! I hope to see you again on one of our trips to Laura's! Love, Jean Watkins

ellen said...

oh, allison. you are my redemption friend. He's taking hurts that felt beyond His healing and making something new. i'm so thankful for you.

Katherine said...

This is a lovely tribute to a lovely woman. Your words honor your grandmother in a sweet, honest way that shares her beauty from the Lord.

Love the birdfeeder memory and the bottled tears quote. (hugs)