Uncle Jim’s funeral (part V)

The burial took place the morning before the memorial service, and we intentionally we arrived early. 

“We are the first ones here,” Lauren said. 

“I wanted to arrive first so we could put the flowers out before they came.” 

I am glad we came early, as an unsightly blue tarp covered the hole, with bricks around its corners. I removed it and replaced it with beautiful white flowers.

When the family arrived, I got the urn out. 

“Do you want me to put the urn in the hole or set it at the top of the hole?” I asked Kimberly.

“I haven’t thought about it.” 

I placed the urn in the hole and would get it out if Aunt June wanted. 

“No one is crying,” Kimberly said.

“I'm trying to be strong for y'all.” 

“I've been crying a lot.” 

It's okay for you to feel that way. You need to express your emotions.” 

Kimberly placed a gorgeous wreath made of magnolia leaves by the small hole in the ground. The service was simple—the way Uncle Jim would have wanted. His family loved to sing, so of course, we sang. Each person had the opportunity to toss dirt in the hole or use the shovel to cover the urn. His grandson helped fill the hole, too. After the service, we went into the fellowship hall, where coffee and hot chocolate were available to warm us on a cold day.

After the burial, we visited Uncle Jim's sister's old house. A ginormous magnolia tree towered in the front yard where both young and old kids climbed its branches. Since no one currently occupied the home, the owners allowed us to visit inside. Several family members shared fond childhood memories of visiting her home and climbing her tree.

The members of their church prepared a wonderful meal for the family before the memorial service. The service itself was exceptional—it celebrated Uncle Jim's life. Music filled the air, and there was aa opportunity for people to stand and share a story about him. After the funeral, the reception took place in the fellowship hall. A video displayed photos of Jim, along with a clip of him singing in a quartet.

U How can you be a servant to those in need?  U 

U  What small details can you think of to help the grieving family?  U 

  U Have you considered how to minister to the grieving family?  U 

Grandmother (part V)

Grandmother’s large hat rested by her photo, and a pretty linen covered her box of ashes. Claudia and Dad's large flower arrangement decorated the front of the church. The flowers would remain for Sunday’s church service.

Church members held a reception after the service and decided to have a receiving line. Although we weren't prepared for one, we organized everyone and met many people from her church, Dad’s church, and others who loved Grandmother. 

Grandmother wanted me to go through her clothes and get what I wanted, so I went to her house. I didn’t want her clothes but wanted a few sentimental items. I found a writing pen from her church, a Beanie Baby and purse for Lauren, two makeup compacts, a pair of earrings for my sissy, her charm bracelet with my charm and my cousins with our birthdays engraved on them, a few of her cushioned hangers for myself and my sisters, and a few other small items. I also found a card I sent her. 

Grandmother's boxed ashes were sitting on the kitchen table at Dad's house—I wanted to hold them. 

I am holding all that is left of Grandmother. What a strange thought.

I gently rocked it like a ship in a storm, listening to the sounds it made. I don't really know why I did this.

You did a good job, and Grandmother would have been proud,” I told Dad.

On the drive home, we stopped for gas and noticed seagulls flying around the parking lot. 

 I hope Grandmother sees angels flying since she can’t see the seagulls. 

Tonight, I prayed, “Lord, it would be great if You would let me peek into Heaven to see if Grandmother was there. I could celebrate and not be in sorrow.”

It could be the other way around.

I must give it to the Lord, releasing the burden from my heart, and not dwell on it. I can’t do anything now—I did all I was supposed to do.

Grandmother (part IV)

They held her memorial service at 2 p.m., and it was beautifully done. Joann spoke and said the Lord helped her put everything together. She recited a poem and included many heartfelt memories that we girls shared with her. She did a fantastic job, and I know I wouldn't have been able to read it without crying. The poem is titled "Grandmother's Poem."

Most of Joann's poems included lines only my family would understand, so I just listed a few.

“A grandmother’s love, who can fathom?

Love for her family—fierce like a bear

Love for pets (poodles were her fav) and her gardens too. 

Advice on clothes, hair, nails, and manners too.

Wisdom from an immaculate, classy woman.

Stories of younger days,

Of modeling, and a Southern Bell too. 

She continued reading the poem, reminding us of all the precious memories and quirks of our wonderful grandmother, whom we all loved. 

Joann beautifully ended the poem by saying, “Grandmothers truly know what it means to LOVE unconditionally. They take pride in watching us grow & in seeing us mature. We see ourselves in them & they see their youth in us. We’ll thank God for allowing our grandmother, Margaret Royal, to love, guide & influence us.” 

Grandmother (part III)

We drove to St. Simons Friday night. Joann called and asked what memories I had of Grandmother because Dad wanted her to speak during Grandmother’s memorial service. 

My fondest memories are of Grandmother’s river dock house. We’d go there frequently when I was young, and the many times we crabbed at her house inspired my love of crabbing. 

Once, I caught a snapping turtle and a stingray in my crab net, too.

I remember my kids’ playing cards with her, like “Go Fish,” “War,” and others. They looked forward to spending special time with her.

I woke up early Saturday morning and went to the beach to take pictures. I took a few photos while thinking of Grandmother. It’s hard to believe she is not here.

We gathered at Dad and Claudia's house at noon because several ladies from their church honored us by bringing a lunch for the family. I was pulling out gray hairs in the bathroom when everyone arrived, taking after Mom. 

Grandmother (part II)

Dad called Wednesday and said she was not going to last much longer. 

“Do you want to say something to her? I will hold the phone to her ear. She will probably not hear you.” 

“I still want to talk to her anyway.”

“Thank you for being a wonderful . . . grandmother and a special person. Ashton, Lauren, and Paul think the same thing. You need Jesus because He is the most important person—you need to ask Him into her heart,” I said as my words turned to crying.

These are the last words I would say to her.

Paul hadn’t seen his grandparents much because they lived far away. Two of his grandparents died when he was in high school or college, and three died before he was born. Fortunately, he had mine. 

I received a text from Joann on January 5, 2012. She wrote, “Grandmother is finally at peace and no longer in pain. She passed away at 2:40 p.m. The memorial service will be on Saturday at 2:00 p.m. at her church on St. Simons. Her service will be at the cemetery in Savannah in the upcoming weeks when it is convenient for our cousins and us.”

There will not an open casket because Grandmother was cremated—she didn’t want people to see her that way.

I called Dad to see if he wanted us to stay at a hotel. Things would be hectic around his house, and I did not want to make it worse.

“I want your family to stay here.”

He was talkative, which surprised me a little, and he was excited to see everyone. He might have felt relieved after managing Grandmother’s finances and many other things for years.