A Solitude of Stillness
Her hands were never idle. They created and imparted: beauty into the ordinary, colorful designs adorning a hand quilted throw. They taught: insights into an ever-tortuous event- needle threading, color patterns for that first 9-patch attempt, and the perfect measurements for 3,2,1 cake – single serving size. The only still moments I can recall of my Mimi’s hands were the moments she hugged us close.
As a child Mimi enchanted me. Short in stature with gorgeous snow-white hair, Mimi looked like no one else. Talent burst forth from my Mimi in yards of fabric tamed and tempered into quilts, scarves, stuffed animals, throws; any number of things. Like the magical elves in the cobbler’s story, or tailors in fairy tales, measuring tape and straight pins accompanied her every outfit, kept in sight with small spectacles perched on the edge of her nose, corralled by beaded chain.
We visited Mimi and Pappy at “the Bayhouse” – a large, long house situated on, well, the bay. Mimi reigned from a command center in the living room, a comfy chair near good light and easy access to a table, working on numerous projects and sharing thoughts on various subjects. Even in recent years, at the end of my Mimi’s life, her capacity to retain information, from books, documentaries, and previous conversations, astounded me.
During my school-age years Mimi and Pappy traveled across the country, working at camps and with the Baptist Men at Disaster Relief sites. Throughout the year, envelopes would appear in our mailbox from exotic sounding locations, pictures of them with little notes scrawled across the back telling their current adventure. The exciting occasions happened when their great big 5th wheel lumbered into our driveway to stay a few days. I cherished each moment.
Her hands were never idle, but her soul was still. Serenity and security embodied my Mimi, a peace passing comprehension flowed from her. No matter her situation or condition, I never once heard my Mimi complain. What I did hear from her was a complete assurance in the Lord, that she was a member of Christ and rested in that truth. Even as a child, I knew and responded to this assurance in my mother’s mother. Time with her soothed my soul, for it was time with one near to God.
Last week Mimi gained the longing of her spirit, to stand still and whole before our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Magnificent quilts and cherished memories are some of the legacy she leaves behind. A life of peace and contentment is another. She has written on our hearts, her family members, a tale of joy and adventure accomplished in the light of God’s truth. Thank you for loving me, dear Mimi, and loving our Lord. I grieve the loss of my grandmother, but not as one without hope, for I shall see you again in glory.
