Thinking about G-Ma.

My grandmother, Lola Christy, turned 96 on May 16th, in great health. A few days later, she went into the hospital with trouble breathing. The doctors diagnosed her with double pneumonia, and essentially that there wasn't much chance of recouperation from that at her age. She died a few days later, on Sunday May 24th.

In a lot of ways, the realization of Gramma's death has been bittersweet. The fact that she was 96 meant that I have been sort of emotionally preparing for her death for about a decade now. In a lot of ways, that has allowed me to appreciate my time with her more, as it was happening, rather than waiting to appreciate her until after she was gone, as we often do at funerals.

She hasn't really had any big health issues in all the time that I knew her, and never dipped mentally at all. A few years back she had a minor stroke, which made her left hand a bit wonky, and she had to occasionally use a wheel chair. By and large, though, she was with it right up until the end. A few years back, she after she had fallen and given us a scare, she said, "Don't worry, I'm going to live until I'm 96." At the time it seemed like a funny Gram thing to say, but turned out to be right on. Gram always seemed to have a great perspective on things, and, in retrospect, her own death seems no different.

Because of her good heath and acute mind, I have had the constant blessing of still having Grams in my life, long past when most Grammas are around, and still really there, not slipping away mentally. She got to know Adrien incredibly well for the last 11 years (and even liked her a bit better than me, I suspect), she got to see me ordained, and was incredibly excited about our coming baby. The greatest sadness that I have is that she didn't make it to October, so that she could see the baby.

Gramma (who was alternately called - Gramma Christy, Grams, G-Ma, or the tabloid ready G-Lo) was a great grandmother, and one that I appreciated more and more as I got older. All of us cousins (three from my mom, and four from my aunt LoAnn) are in our in or around the 30's (save Addie, who is 19), and so having a Grandmother who is 60 years older than you is a bit of a rarity, allowing for what one would assume is a cultural disconnect. That was never the case, though. We all loved Gramma. Many of us even lived with her for weeks, months, or in my & Addie's case in 1997-98, years at a time.


She was always genuinely interested in us, loved and cared for us, but also made us better people. She never spoiled us with candy or typical "grandma" things, but she taught us how to play Mahjong, how to enjoy a good cup of coffee while looking out the window in the morning, and how to love God. She also loved Duke Basketball and hated when people clapped in church, two passions I have inherited.


She cared so much about our lives, and as she entered her 80's, she got the internet and used it regularly to stay in touch with us, and entering her 90's, she got a cell phone for the same reason. She loved the new people that we brought in. In my case, that was Adrien. One day, when I was a freshman in college, about to hop on a Greyhound bus to go to Baltimore to see Adrien, Gramma, who was dropping me off at the bus stop, mused, "Well, it's a beautiful day, and you are off to see a beautiful girl..."

One of the best things about G-Ma was her dry sense of humor. So dry you could easily miss it. One time when I was about 8, I got yelled at for starting to eat Thanksgiving dinner before we had said the prayer. Gramma, who was sitting by me, nudged me surreptitiously, and quickly opened her mouth to revel that she had a mouthful of food.

She was sharp right up until the last as well. A friend relayed a story of how, after she was taken to the hospital after her birthday, she was constantly short of breath because of the pneumonia, and unable to talk. My mom and our friend Karen were there in the room, trying to console Gram and keep her comfortable. A nurse came in and asked Gram if she was experiencing any pain. Gram nodded. The nurse asked where it hurt. Gram pointed at my mom & Karen.

G-Ma was an amazing person, one who truly lived every day right until the last. I am so blessed to have had her in my life and around for all of my 29 years. I am truly a better person because of her, in every single way. Most of what the "good person" in me was directly fostered and nurtured by her. She taught me things that I never would have learned on my own.

This Friday, we are all getting together for her memorial service in New Wilmington.

It is overwhelming to know how many people my Gramma affected. She is still and will always be an influence in my life, as is my Grandpa, Wayne Christy, who died when I was five. They both illustrated how serving God doesn't mean wearing a neon shirt saying "Look at me serving God!" It means being a listener. Someone who truly cares, who shows love through action and dedication, not simply through grand gestures. She loved God and she showed us how to as well, with her whole life.

Gram was a servant, and that's what I strive to be, too.