Our Matriarch of Steel

A hurricane hit Clearwater Beach yesterday.  It wasn’t featured on the national news, or even the local news for that matter.  The hurricane (or stroke if you’re a stickler for medical terminology) hit my Grandma Erb with a force that has reached all the way to Colorado and taken my breath away.  I just saw her at Christmas.  She was so full of life and stories.  Having recently heard of a gender reveal party, she declared that she had “seen it all” and that there couldn’t be anything more ridiculous!  It seems I was just swinging with her on the patio.  A Fareway grocery bag full of freshly picked green beans was nestled between us.  We both worked away at snapping them while she leaned over and shared snippits of gossip with me as if I were her lifelong girlfriend.

I wasn’t always so close to my Grandma Erb, despite growing up a mile down the road and spending a significant portion of my formative years at her house.  There were lots of toys and treats, but as I grew older, and more girly, I couldn’t identify with this woman who put practicality above style.  She would tug the comb through my long, tangled hair.  She never bought my birthday present from the stylish kids’ store, Engledingers.  She was a wonderful grandmother, but I didn’t feel I had much in common with her.  

The years passed and I became a wife and a mother.  Grandma still sported the same knit tops, seasonal vinyl table cloths on her kitchen table, and a twenty-year-old geranium that she kept going year round.  We were visiting Iowa and had big news to share.  Our family would be growing by two—TWINS!  Having birthed twins of her own, Grandma’s reaction to the news was to burst into laughter and declare that she would NEVER want to do that again!  Little did I know that this brash statement was the point where my heart would finally converge with hers.  

I had three boys in 22 months and six weeks later we moved across the country.  Life was hard.  Grandma had three stair-step boys, and then surprise twins!  She couldn’t figure out why canning was so hard that summer, until it was time to deliver and they discovered a bonus baby.  Grandpa worked midnights at a factory and farmed during the day.  Grandma was raising five kids virtually on her own.  Her life was hard.  She didn’t mince words with me.  “I did it, so you can do it.”  And she was right.  I discovered a strength and resolve that assured me I had received more than Grandma’s “twin making” gene.  

The difficult days of mothering shook lose the superfluous parts of me.  I began to understand this practical Grandmother of mine.  She raised six children and multiple foster children.  She lived her entire life on a farm.  Her childhood memories included the great depression.  World War 2 was the reality of her teenage years.  All of these striped Grandma of the traits that weren’t truly her.  She was simply the woman God created her to be.  A woman who worked harder and loved her family more than anyone else I know. 

Grandma’s work ethic has always been beyond reproach.  Just this last Christmas, she made potato salad, sloppy joe’s and sewit pudding for 50.  She was constantly canning, freezing, knitting, embroidering, and feeding. Her house was always busy with grandkids looking for fun and snacks and farmers coming in for a glass of ice tea and a bit of neighborhood gossip.  Things slowed down a bit as the grandkids grew up, and farmers retired.  But there’s a standing pizza party on Friday nights, and the patio continues to be a gathering place on summer evenings.  

And so my mind is spinning and I catch my breath.  This woman, who has been a matriarch of steel for our family, is lying in a hospital bed by the ocean.  Our entire family is trying to grasp this as reality.  It doesn’t seem possible that my strong, outspoken Grandma who just hosted the entire family for Christmas can now be so lifeless.  What could God’s plan be in all of this? 

I’ve been studying the book of Daniel, which reminds us that God “changes the times and the seasons.  He sets up kings and deposes them.  He brings wisdom to the wise and knowledge to the discerning.  He reveals the meaning of deep and hidden things.  He knows what lies in darkness and light dwells with him.” (Daniel 2:21-22)  Daniel was taken prisoner from his homeland by the conquering Babylonians as a teenager.  Talk about heartbreak and uncertainty, and yet his faith in God remained intact.  We use flannel boards to teach our children his story because he trusted God despite a future that appeared dismal.  

The future of my Grandma seems dismal right now.  And I’m faced with the choice to question or to have faith.  So I’m choosing to dig deep and find the genes of determination I inherited from her, and to use them to hold onto my faith.  God is in control of this situation.  He has plans to prosper us.  He has plans for our hope and our future (Jeremiah 29:11).  I am determined to hold tight to this sweet promise.