My Grandma Voss

Below are the words I spoke at my Grandmother's funeral on February 12:

In some ways, it's easier than I thought it would be to share with you a few words about my Grandmother this morning. Because anyone who's been in a room with her for just five minutes knows what kind of a person she was--warm and inviting (like her cinnamon rolls); comfortable to be with (like the blankets she knitted); someone who was always able to make you laugh at her audacious ability to speak-it-like-she-saw-it.

All of you who've had the privilege of spending time with Beulah Voss know that she was a spirited and loving soul. And so those of us gathered here today to remember her life are like one big family mourning the same loss.

My Grandma weathered a lot in her 88 years of life. As I grew up I developed a deepening respect for her wisdom won from living through the great depression, the childhood loss of her mother, seeing her husband through the second world war, and eventually surviving the deaths of her husband, her son, and her son-in-law. My Grandma wasn't quick to talk about these struggles or the sacrifices she made, but I believe that her resilience made the sparkle in her eyes and the laughter in her voice that much more significant. Though she weathered so much, no one could snatch the joy from her life or the warmth from her presence.

I grew up hearing tale after tale of my Grandma's latest exploits. There was the time when my dad was little and she sent him out to the garden with a salt shaker and instructions to enjoy all the tomatoes he could eat. He got so sick that he never ate another tomato again. A life-long believer in the necessity of a thorough spring cleaning, my Grandma continued the practice of flipping her bedroom mattress each spring well past her 80th birthday, even when she got stuck beneath the mattress and had to call her neighbor for help.

We would warn her, tell her to slow down and put her feet up, urge her to live life more carefully--but that wasn't Beulah's way. She was fiercely independent, determined to have an extravagant meal on the table when you stepped through the door, no matter the trouble. She refused to abide by a stray spider or dusty corner in her home.

And perhaps it was her incredible hospitality that was my Grandma's greatest gift to family and friends alike. She mothered her own siblings after the loss of their mom and adopted countless others throughout her life. My Grandma never met a stranger. She made friends on airplanes and befriended the man behind the deli counter. She swapped mince-meat cookies for free samples from her doctor. She welcomed grandchildren into her home with a pan of cinnamon rolls and a platter of pumpkin roll. My Grandma took great delight in feeding anyone--grand-dogs included. I'm a vegetarian, but my mom and my husband heartily agree that she could cook some mean barbecue ribs. Her great-grandchildren cut their teeth on toast topped with her famous canned jams.

Beyond her love of food and infamous cooking capabilities, my Grandma could always make you laugh. She never lost the ability to surprise you with something she said or did, to shout you down if you weren't pulling your weight as her partner in a card game, to give you her opinion on the latest turn of events. My Grandma was fun and easy to be with. She was a people-person, a quality that I'm thankful she passed along to my dad. She loved her family with a fierce and enduring love. No doubt any one of her grandkids would tell you that we'd be blessed to inherit just a hint of her resilience, her sparkle, her wit, or her warmth.

And it is partially because of these qualities, but also because of the hope that we have in a God who is always bringing new life out of death, that I celebrate the joyful reunion of my Grandma with my dad, with my Uncle Ed, and with my Grandpa. I'd like to think she's slow-cooking some barbecue ribs right now for that joyous feast to which we're all invited. It is fitting that as she made her way home to God, a place was prepared for her--the one who spent so much of her life preparing to welcome others.

Because God's mercies are new each day, we can offer gratitude even for this day, a day when we miss one we loved so deeply--a day when we also rejoice that Beulah Voss is feasting at the heavenly banquet.

Beulah Viola Voss March 13, 1921- Feb. 7, 2010

O Lord my God, When I in awesome wonder,
Consider all the worlds Thy Hands have made;
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!

When through the woods, and forest glades I wander,
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees.
When I look down, from lofty mountain grandeur
And see the brook, and feel the gentle breeze.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!

And when I think, that God, His Son not sparing;
Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in;
That on the Cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin.

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!

When Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation,
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart.
Then I shall bow, in humble adoration,
And then proclaim: "My God, how great Thou art!"

Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!

--My Grandmother's favorite hymn, sang to her by her pastor shortly before she passed on to the other side.

Birthday Boy and Blizzards

We had a prolonged birthday celebration for Myles this year, as my sister's family came to stay with us for his actual birthday party the Saturday before his birthday. The party was at the Health Adventure, the coolest kids museum we have in the area...it's full of play rooms, a grocery store with plastic produce and carts, a crank with balls, spinning chairs, a rice table, and usually a traveling exhibit on the second floor. We had cupcakes and ice cream, and a whole slew of Myles' friends came. Then Brenna, Brian, and cousins Kaleb and Finn spent the night and Myles had a ball. We got him a bigger guitar and he plays it every day. On Sunday night, Seth left for a work training in Greensboro, and on Monday (Myles' actual birthday) we were invited over to his god-parents' for dinner and fun. Colleen and Tom and the girls had a house full of gifts for Myles--a caboose for his train table, a train whistle, a banner that said "Happy Birthday Myles" and a new pillowcase with his name sewn onto it. ("M-Y-L-E-S and Myles was his name-o")

The following weekend, Seth's folks came to be with us in the midst of a snowstorm that resulted in us canceling worship on Sunday. They made a clown cake for Myles that we later enjoyed over at Cindy and Blake's house after two mornings of sledding. Seth's folks gave Myles some new gates for his train table, and some cars he's been wanting. He got so many wonderful presents, but the best gift was the presence of family and friends. Being snowed/iced in meant that we traveled over to Cindy and Blake's by way of foot and jog stroller (deflated wheel and all) to sled and play and visit with some of the friends from our babysitting coop. Cindy always provides good food and warm drinks and it's always such a relief to be with other mamas who have kids Myles' age.

Myles absolutely loved his time with Grandpa and Nana. He always hits it off with Grandpa and insisted on playing "the hat trick" over and over, until he eventually poked poor Grandpa in the eye on accident. Despite the mishap, I think they enjoyed having so much one-on-one time with their grandchild.

My mom was disappointed to miss Myles' birthday this year, but made the wise decision to go up to Michigan with my Aunt Donna and Uncle Bob (as they drove up from Florida and picked my mom up along the way) to see my Grandma in the hospital. While they were there for a week, my Grandma seemed to have one day of shut-eye followed by a day when she would open her eyes, say a few words ("I want coffee" was a favorite), or move her right hand. Her speech is slurred so there's some frustration in communication, but my mom put the phone up to her ear and I was able to tell her Hello and remind her of how much she is loved, and she immediately responded with "Mmmm." My cousins have also been bringing their families to visit, which I am grateful for since we can't be there. My mom noted that my cousin Paula's youngest, Cameron, was especially sweet with my Grandmother, running his fingers through her hair and telling her how much he loved her. I'm glad she's receiving so much TLC. Yesterday she was moved from the hospital in Grand Rapids to a nursing home in Newaygo. It's a temporary situation, as the nursing home they'd like her to be in does not yet have a bed for her. Hopefully she will be transferred there in a few days and they will begin rehabilitation with her. Please continue to keep her in your thoughts and prayers, as well as my Aunt Barb who lives close by and will be doing much of the visiting.

Mylestones: It seems like this kid is growing like a weed these days. Putting together puzzles is a lot of fun for him and he has a couple that he works on over and over and over. He also is digging his train table more, and Seth and I certainly enjoy those times when he's able to play independently up there without the need for constant monitoring. He loves his preschool program and any time he gets with friends. And he still enjoys a good evening wrestle with his dad before bed.

Myles Says: Yesterday morning, I was holding Myles on my lap in a sweet snuggle. I said to him, "Your legs are getting so long! But you'll always be my boy no matter how big you get." He replied, "No I'm not your boy. I'm growing up. I'm going to be a man. I'll drive a car and a motorcycle." Wow. In relaying this conversation to Seth it turns out Seth had told him just the day before (grrr) that he would grow up to be a man and drive cars and motorcycles. He's also started to identify the parent animal as a "daddy" instead of a mama in some of the books and dvds he watches. If I tell him, no--that's the mama, he'll immediately say, "where's the daddy?" It's clear his alliance with his papi is of growing importance. Sometimes I feel a little like chopped liver, but that's okay.

Well, there's a ruckus going on upstairs, so I guess that's my cue...