I Miss Her Wise CounselMy grandmother was among the last of her kind; a true lady. She was gentle in her words and actions. She rarely had a harsh word to say about anyone. Even when she chastised me, it usually ended or began with 'child' though I was 32 when she died. I remember when she told me that she had Parkinson's Disease. She spoke so matter of factly as I sat and cried. She smiled that benevolent smile of hers and said, "Child, your grandfather and I, we're ready to go. We've lived long and happy lives." While I admired her courage, I selfishly could not imagine the` time when I would ever be willing to let her go.
I had the kind of relationship with my grandmother that I could go to her with anything. No subject was too delicate for her. Often she would sit and quietly listen to whatever drama was unfolding in my life at the time. When she spoke, she didn't sugar-coat her words, but nor was she overly harsh or critical.
Now more than ever I miss her counsel. I miss her soft laugh and the shake of her head as she said what she so often did, "It will all work out, child." She was usually right, though I never could see it at the time.