There are two chickens in the crockpot, sprinkled with garlic salt, celery salt, pepper and a hodgepodge of other spices, and crammed full of chunks of carrots and onions. The crockpot will work in my absence-- a "servant girl" from Proverbs 31 in the first order.
The children who didn't bathe last night are bathing. Everyone is brushing teeth and getting dressed in outfits that were approved by me. (This is opposed to approved by daddy, whose standards are less than mine in the outfit department.)
My husband is squeezing a few hours of work in, dressed in his short sleeve white shirt so he will look like the other pallbearers without passing out from the 100+ temps. He will be meeting us there.
I have snuck away for a few minutes to sip coffee and catch up on my favorite bloggers. Appropriately, I find this post. And this. Perspective. I am thankful again for the blogging community as I read these words and wipe away tears.
My mind wanders again to what I will wear.
This is my final grandparent funeral. My first was in college and the other three have been within the last eight years. So many goodbyes, and so much hope still left-- for the legacy I have been handed by these people who loved me and prayed for me. For the rest of the family to pick up the torch and run with it as they would have wanted. For myself to do them proud, as now they have joined the "great cloud of witnesses" who are cheering me on as I strain towards the finish line they have crossed. Today I read (by no accident, I am sure) I Corinthians 15, about the resurrection we have to look forward to. And I was not sad at all as I thought about my grandmother, now whole and healed. She was a very sick woman for most of the latter years of her life-- so many little things going wrong in her imperfect human body. What a celebration that she now has a perfect resurrected body!
And yet, I am sure there will be tears today as we say goodbye. Goodbye to the woman who used to pick me up in her yellow Cadillac and take me to get lunch. Goodbye to the woman who would finish singing in the choir, spot me coming towards her and holler, "Marybeth!" with arms outstretched for me to run into. Goodbye to the woman who loved Young and The Restless and never missed it. (I never could figure that out-- how she could love the Lord so much, but watched that trash. I never asked her to explain it, though. I can't explain why I watch Law and Order.)
So many memories. Sad goodbyes and hope for happy reunions, thanks to what Jesus did on the cross.
Time to go to a funeral.