Shannon S. McKee

musings and moments

Sitting with Grammy

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My sweet Grammy’s 95-year-old body is finally starting to really falter. Always active and self-sufficient, it hasn’t been easy for her to be forced into a position of depending on others and questioning if life still has value when you can’t DO much. Who among us doesn’t try to avoid those questions with every fiber of our beings? 

I remember clearly the first time that I realized that she wasn’t invincible. It was the day she told me she couldn’t golf anymore because of the arthritis in her hands. I remember being both saddened but also sort of pissed off by it. What was this thing called aging that was stealing away her abilities? 

I’ve watched her give up driving. Give up getting her hands in the dirt to plant flowers every Spring. Give up running her own errands and doing the laundry. Give up cleaning her own house the way she wants to. Give up getting her white hair done every other Friday. Give up seeing her pal Ella at church every Sunday. Give up writing letters to her bajillion grandchildren. Even give up being able to get her own dang glass of water. At every step it has been a mixed bag of emotions for me. Grief, joy, anger. 

She is so dear to me that I have often wondered what God is doing in this season. She has been ready to go “home” to be with Him for a couple of years now. Ready to be free and in His presence, fully known and loved without the shackles of sin. A few days ago, I sat with her in the stillness of their den. We didn’t talk much. I mostly held her hand and fed her ice chips. And I reflected on the whys of this season, asking the Lord not to tarry too much longer in taking her. 

Why does He keep letting age take things she loves from her? Why doesn’t He just come for her? Why does He wait when she is so ready? 

I don’t know His mind or pretend to understand the orchestrations of the God of the Universe. The One who is both preeminent and yet intensely personal. I don’t understand His timing. And, frankly, I don’t need to because I can trust His character. I trust what I know to be true about Him. His love and mercy and grace toward a broken and rebellious world. His tenderness toward the weak and forgotten ones. His creative attention to detail. His ability to always judge rightly. 

So, I’ll leave being God to Him. But, even in the midst of my questions, I will certainly admit that I can see some of the beautiful things He has been doing since my Grammy started getting more frail – little clues to remind me that He’s got this. 

  • I can see it my grandparents’ marriage. My Grandad has always been an impressive man, worthy of respect and admiration. But, my love of him has grown exponentially over the last couple of years. The way he is serving my Grammy in this season … it’s breathtaking. He is being so like his Lord right now. I think maybe even moreso than when he was teaching church history and reading Sproul (though he does those things well too). As for her part, she is reveling in his care for her.
  • I can see it when I slow down to sit and just hold her hand. In the stillness. The other day, I was sharing with her about my advent readings from that week – about how Christmas is just the beginning and that Jesus will come back as our Bridegroom. How He’ll scoop up His Bride and have a great feast for her. Grammy hadn’t spoken much that visit. But, the smile that played across her face in that moment… well, I would have missed it in my usual busyness. But, today, I was still and quiet and reflective. And I joined her in a powerful moment of anticipation. 
  • I can see it in the way my aunts who live in the area have taken to caring for her so that she can have her wish of staying at home as long as possible. It’s been something I have treasured as I have watched it play out. A WW2 nurse, wife, mom, grandma and great-grandma, she has spent a good bit of her life caring for others… now, her children rise up to call her blessed and spend their hours caring for her. 
  • I can see it in the way she prays. A year or so ago, she told me that she couldn’t do much anymore, so she’d turn her attention to praying more. I know she prays faithfully for all of us and that her prayers are like incense to our Lord. How He must delight in hearing from her as she cares for all of her people! 

I’m sure there are other things. Things that God is doing at this very moment to bring beauty to this phase of our story as we all prepare to send her home. Things unseen that He is working. But I will take these few things and ponder them, rolling them over in my mind until they are like a smooth stone that I can use to raise my own Ebenezer. All the while trusting the One whose promises are always Yes and Amen. 

On the Occasion of Her 95th Birthday: Grammy and Her Giggles

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My Grammy turns 95 today. This precious woman of strength and dignity with a giggle that lights up the entire room. I think most of her grandkids would say it’s one of their favorite sounds.

Ninety-five years has certainly brought a lot of giggles but also a lot of heartbreak. A WW2 nurse, she was abandoned by her first husband to raise four kids alone just when life should have been settling into a predictable groove. One of three from an Irish Catholic family, Grammy was resourceful and independent enough to persevere during those years of mothering alone while working full-time as a nurse until she met my Grandad, who carried his own heartbreak as a widower with three boys. He was the one who introduced her to Jesus – not the Jesus of dos and donts and works that she had learned as a girl. But the Jesus who loved her and pursued her and would meet all the awe of a holy God with His own righteousness on her behalf. She gave into the overwhelming flood of His grace then and has spent the rest of her life unlearning old legalisms in order to really KNOW Him more fully.

When she married my Grandad, they become one family of nine in the big, brick house on Longmere. Somehow they managed to let God take their two torn and broken stories and weave them into one beautiful tapestry. There would be more heartbreak and challenge over the years. But their tapestry would become richer and more intricate over time as they learned to truly love each other and wrangle their growing family. Seven children meant lots of grandkids and great-grandkids to love.

That’s my place in the tapestry. Grandkid #3. I spent a lot of Saturdays in their home exploring and doing projects with Grammy or yapping on and on at Grandad. They were the kind of grandparents who tried to make it to our ballgames and took us for homemade ice cream for no reason. They have always presided over our big family gatherings – we had many over the years. In my adult years I have been privileged to live near them again and see them often.

Today, they always have Milano cookies in the kitchen. Back in the day, they had a knobby rug at the top of their basement steps, apple juice in the frig, and sunflower seeds in the cupboard.

Grammy wrote the best letters when you went away to camp or on a missions trip – or moved away. And, she was always taking care of someone – more people have lived in that basement of theirs than I can count. When any of her children or grandchildren suffered, she suffered along with them emotionally and prayerfully. And, then there was Carmella whom she nursed through years until muscular dystrophy took her life.

It’s funny the things that standout as vivid memories. Snapshots in time that will always stick with me. Of course, I remember other silly things like that she used to be able to make the Donald Duck voice. Or that she could fearlessly kill a Banana Spider between her thumb and pointer finger. Oh, and, I am her Padawan in the ways of the binder clip – that woman could write a book about the many, varied uses of binder clips. Her ability to find a way to reuse or fix something is unrivaled – probably a skill honed during her single mom days. Grandad was always the spender. She tells me that her own Dad was a very frugal guy and that’s where she learned it. But through it all – she has always giggled as she observed the idiosyncrasies of life. Always that giggle. Like she is just truly tickled by the joys of this life.

Her body is starting to fail her and it’s tough for her to get out of the house now. But her eyes are bright and that giggle… it’s not contained to one house. It has a way of sticking with you around town.

In fact, I’m hoping to go get a bit of it later today myself. Happy Birthday Grammy! I know in some ways you’re ready to go meet your Lord face to face. But, I for one, am glad to have the giggle with us a bit longer.