So Close, So Far Away

Please welcome my husband (my editor) in this guest post as he reflects upon Thanksgiving and my late Grandmom-in-law. This post was originally going to be published late last year but we wished to share his thoughts with the family prior to sharing it on my blog.

Thanksgiving. The day we gather as family and proclaim our thanks to God for what we have, what we have been spared, what we have learned, what we have experienced, and what we have been given. Perhaps some of us are hearty enough to be thankful for what is no more.

Thanksgiving conjures up memories of browns and oranges and yellows and reds. Smells of turkey, gravy, stuffing, casseroles, vegetables, breads, rolls, cakes, pies, cookies, egg nog, and firewood smoke come to mind. These sense memories pale, though, compared to the memories of being with my family, such as hearing Grandmom talking with someone, or the laughs of my aunts, or the banter of uncles and cousins around the fire outside the vacation home or in the living room in our hometown. The crack of the pool table in the den or NHL video games on a giant basement TV screen. The day could be represented by a family serving dinner spread out over a wide table in a dining room, a wife cooking for her small family in a small town, or an aunt and uncle with the rest of their families gathering around the light and warmth at whichever house is the host venue.

Grandmom left this Earth the day after Thanksgiving – Black Friday. So named for other reasons, this year it carries a heavier, deeper meaning. Black Friday is so close to Thanksgiving, but so far away because the calendar only moves in one direction. Black Friday is the furthest day from the next Thanksgiving. So, too, Grandmom is now so far away from her family – or (more accurately) from her earthly family. Yet, in reverse, she is so close to the next generations like Black Friday is close to its prior day. Her pedigree is in our very souls. Her laughter, wisdom, and fondness for music in our minds. Her love flows in our hearts. Now, she is among “the cloud of witnesses” the writer of Hebrews tells about in his epistle:

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted. (Hebrews 12:1-3)

Last week, Grandmom joined Grandpop – my forebear in both name and generation, her sisters, my late first wife, and countless others who named Yeshua Mashiach – Christ Jesus – as Lord and Savior. Because Grandmom believed in her Savior, surely she heard those words we long to hear after we shed our own mortal coils: “Well done, good and faithful servant.” For those who know Jesus, death is merely falling asleep and waking up renewed in Heaven in Jesus’ arms. How else could David and Paul write, “O Death, where is thy sting? Grave, where is thy victory?”

As Thanksgiving gives way to the Christmas season, I am thankful for being Grandmom’s grandson – and for the culture of love that Grandmom fostered in us all. Who else was so forgiving (“Maybe there is an illness in the family.”) or longsuffering (“Maybe they were having a bad day.”)? This is not to cover all of Grandmom’s flaws – as we all have them – but certainly her strengths have taught me many things that I shall treasure until I join her where she is (in glory)—So Close, So Far Away.

If you would like to read more about our family, please see the following posts about our annual Pollyanna Party and more: