Letter to Heaven
Dear Maw Maw,
When Rob and I would spend a summer's week with you, the day started early in the morning. Did you ever let a day go by without watching the sun rise? You would wake us up, which I can't imagine to be an easy thing to do with two little kids. We would start with pulling weeds from the garden and feeding the chickens. Oh, I remember those feisty animals! Your hands had marks on them from when they pecked you, but you were fearless. Whereas, I hid behind you.
Vegetables on the table came from the garden you worked. Eggs from the chickens. Did you milk the cows too? I don't remember you doing that. I do know those cows were like kids to you! You called them and they came to you. Imagine my delight when I heard you calling the cows by their names... you named them after your grandchildren! Such beautiful animals. I asked you why you didn't have horses on your property. You said with disgust, "Horses are useless!" I laugh to think of your expression that day.
Not only could cows give milk, but they left cow patties. That's why your roses bloomed like nobody's business, nature's own fertilizer. I have never seen roses get as huge like yours, layer upon layer upon layer of petals! If there was a rose contest in the area, you would have won every year. People driving down the street, total strangers, would pull over along side of the road to see your garden. You helped people, "Stop and smell the roses."
Now, here's a memory that I don't recall, but was told to me by my parents and you... during a visit with you and Paw Paw and when my parents weren't there... and I guess Rob and I had too much time on our hands... Rob and I "chucked the tomatoes. Chucked all of the tomatoes!" (From your home grown garden!).... my mom didn't know what chucked was, until she saw all of the tomatoes splattered across the side of their brick house. My parents scooped us up and left quickly that day.
That wasn't the only time Rob and I did something with your hard worked farm food. You love the Easter tradition of Cracking Eggs. Sometimes you let me in on the secret that you had a hard special egg (not a chicken egg) and that's how you always won! You never left an egg un-cracked. It was a time to guarantee your smile. But one Easter you weren't happy with us.
One Easter my brother and I went to the front yard of your property. We had some broken eggs from the cracking. It was rare for the family to go to the front yard. Rob said, "Want to toss the eggs and see how far apart we can get?" Sure, sounded like fun. So, we did. But then, we ran out of eggs. We could toss pretty far too, because if the egg fell, but didn't really fall apart (they were hard boiled), we just picked it up again and toss. We even went back to the kitchen and got more eggs to toss. When we ran out of cracked eggs... Rob brought out... raw eggs. We tossed those too, lots of them. Only, when we got far apart, neither of us really wanted to catch the eggs and have it crack in our hands.
When we left that Easter Sunday, nobody knew we were outside doing that. However, the next morning, the phone rang off the hook with an irate sounding grandmother, "DO YOU KNOW WHAT THOSE KIDS DID!" Little did we know.... we started a family tradition. A monitored family tradition of egg tossing.
When I was going through my divorce, you sat with me in your kitchen. We were sitting in the rocking chairs by the window. You had a cup of coffee. I felt like my failed marriage made me a failure. You gave me strength and words of compassion. A while after that, I asked you why you never got married after Paw Paw died. You said, "I never wanted another man telling me what to do!" You said it with such spirit! I laughed and you shook your head. You meant what you said. Then you laughed with me too.
I knew that you had spirit. Even in the days when you were older and needed to use a walking cane... if anyone treated you unfairly or someone tried to give you a wrong price on vehicle repairs, that cane would start waving in the air! The person at fault didn't know if you were making a point, needed footed or was about to be whacked on the head!
It was only recently that I found out about you having Native Indian, Chitimacha, heritage in your family. I knew your mom was Cajun French, that she only spoke French. I didn't know about our Native Indian blood line. I can see how you had such spirit.
I know how you started the day and ended the day. You read the Bible. How many times did you read it from beginning to end? Every single day. You told me that you prayed every day too, for all of your children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren and great-great grandchildren. When I shared the exciting news of me being pregnant, you said, "That's one more answer to my prayers." Your love for Gregory showed in your eyes. "He looks just like your daddy when he was a boy. He was a cotton top too." I had a hard time believing that until you showed me a picture of my dad with his Easter basket - blonde hair and all. I'm pretty sure Gregory inherited your gift of a green thumb. You would love his sunflowers, morning glories and other flowers in bloom. I still have the rose bush you gave me. It blooms under my window, a lovely welcome to the day.
Whenever we visited, you always had a pot of coffee ready. You said, "The secret to living a long life is one cup of coffee a day." It was like you were giving out doctor's advise. When I said I don't drink coffee, you weren't pleased.
There are so many memories, vacations with you, mornings in the garden, walking around your property, family gatherings... years and years of ... life.... with so many generations.
Mom and Dad and Uncle Ernest were there when you passed away this afternoon. Mom said that you felt warm to the touch and the sitter checked on you. A few minutes later, your skin felt cooler. That's when the nurse was called and she confirmed your passing. It was peaceful. You were loved and with loved ones.
Are you sharing your strength and love as your spirit leaves this earth to heaven? I feel as though you are.. lending us your prayers and faith. And I imagine... you will be bending God's ear and telling him all the things that need to be done on earth and looking out for us. There will be roses in heaven and the petals will gently fall to earth, as each prayer is answered.
I love you, Maw Maw.
Your granddaughter,
Aleta
When Rob and I would spend a summer's week with you, the day started early in the morning. Did you ever let a day go by without watching the sun rise? You would wake us up, which I can't imagine to be an easy thing to do with two little kids. We would start with pulling weeds from the garden and feeding the chickens. Oh, I remember those feisty animals! Your hands had marks on them from when they pecked you, but you were fearless. Whereas, I hid behind you.
Vegetables on the table came from the garden you worked. Eggs from the chickens. Did you milk the cows too? I don't remember you doing that. I do know those cows were like kids to you! You called them and they came to you. Imagine my delight when I heard you calling the cows by their names... you named them after your grandchildren! Such beautiful animals. I asked you why you didn't have horses on your property. You said with disgust, "Horses are useless!" I laugh to think of your expression that day.
Not only could cows give milk, but they left cow patties. That's why your roses bloomed like nobody's business, nature's own fertilizer. I have never seen roses get as huge like yours, layer upon layer upon layer of petals! If there was a rose contest in the area, you would have won every year. People driving down the street, total strangers, would pull over along side of the road to see your garden. You helped people, "Stop and smell the roses."
Now, here's a memory that I don't recall, but was told to me by my parents and you... during a visit with you and Paw Paw and when my parents weren't there... and I guess Rob and I had too much time on our hands... Rob and I "chucked the tomatoes. Chucked all of the tomatoes!" (From your home grown garden!).... my mom didn't know what chucked was, until she saw all of the tomatoes splattered across the side of their brick house. My parents scooped us up and left quickly that day.
That wasn't the only time Rob and I did something with your hard worked farm food. You love the Easter tradition of Cracking Eggs. Sometimes you let me in on the secret that you had a hard special egg (not a chicken egg) and that's how you always won! You never left an egg un-cracked. It was a time to guarantee your smile. But one Easter you weren't happy with us.
One Easter my brother and I went to the front yard of your property. We had some broken eggs from the cracking. It was rare for the family to go to the front yard. Rob said, "Want to toss the eggs and see how far apart we can get?" Sure, sounded like fun. So, we did. But then, we ran out of eggs. We could toss pretty far too, because if the egg fell, but didn't really fall apart (they were hard boiled), we just picked it up again and toss. We even went back to the kitchen and got more eggs to toss. When we ran out of cracked eggs... Rob brought out... raw eggs. We tossed those too, lots of them. Only, when we got far apart, neither of us really wanted to catch the eggs and have it crack in our hands.
When we left that Easter Sunday, nobody knew we were outside doing that. However, the next morning, the phone rang off the hook with an irate sounding grandmother, "DO YOU KNOW WHAT THOSE KIDS DID!" Little did we know.... we started a family tradition. A monitored family tradition of egg tossing.
When I was going through my divorce, you sat with me in your kitchen. We were sitting in the rocking chairs by the window. You had a cup of coffee. I felt like my failed marriage made me a failure. You gave me strength and words of compassion. A while after that, I asked you why you never got married after Paw Paw died. You said, "I never wanted another man telling me what to do!" You said it with such spirit! I laughed and you shook your head. You meant what you said. Then you laughed with me too.
I knew that you had spirit. Even in the days when you were older and needed to use a walking cane... if anyone treated you unfairly or someone tried to give you a wrong price on vehicle repairs, that cane would start waving in the air! The person at fault didn't know if you were making a point, needed footed or was about to be whacked on the head!
It was only recently that I found out about you having Native Indian, Chitimacha, heritage in your family. I knew your mom was Cajun French, that she only spoke French. I didn't know about our Native Indian blood line. I can see how you had such spirit.
I know how you started the day and ended the day. You read the Bible. How many times did you read it from beginning to end? Every single day. You told me that you prayed every day too, for all of your children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren and great-great grandchildren. When I shared the exciting news of me being pregnant, you said, "That's one more answer to my prayers." Your love for Gregory showed in your eyes. "He looks just like your daddy when he was a boy. He was a cotton top too." I had a hard time believing that until you showed me a picture of my dad with his Easter basket - blonde hair and all. I'm pretty sure Gregory inherited your gift of a green thumb. You would love his sunflowers, morning glories and other flowers in bloom. I still have the rose bush you gave me. It blooms under my window, a lovely welcome to the day.
Whenever we visited, you always had a pot of coffee ready. You said, "The secret to living a long life is one cup of coffee a day." It was like you were giving out doctor's advise. When I said I don't drink coffee, you weren't pleased.
There are so many memories, vacations with you, mornings in the garden, walking around your property, family gatherings... years and years of ... life.... with so many generations.
Mom and Dad and Uncle Ernest were there when you passed away this afternoon. Mom said that you felt warm to the touch and the sitter checked on you. A few minutes later, your skin felt cooler. That's when the nurse was called and she confirmed your passing. It was peaceful. You were loved and with loved ones.
Are you sharing your strength and love as your spirit leaves this earth to heaven? I feel as though you are.. lending us your prayers and faith. And I imagine... you will be bending God's ear and telling him all the things that need to be done on earth and looking out for us. There will be roses in heaven and the petals will gently fall to earth, as each prayer is answered.
I love you, Maw Maw.
Your granddaughter,
Aleta
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