Remembering Nanaw

Here is the eulogy that I am doing for Nanaw's funeral. Thanks, everyone for your thoughts and prayers.

I first met Nanaw, or Betty to many of you, right at 16 years ago through an interesting turn of events. I had scheduled a trip home from college with a buddy of mine, but that unexpectedly fell through at the last moment. I was downtrodden because I wanted a home cooked meal and some time away from school. I called Dawna, whom I had met through my roommate, and had a poor me moment. Little did I expect, but Dawna invited me to come and spend the weekend with her and her family. That weekend, I first met Nanaw.

Now, for some, this might not have meant much, but you see, I’m a good Lutheran who at the time was studying to become a Lutheran pastor. Nanaw was a good Southern Baptist, and if you read the history books, Southern Baptists generally didn’t get along too well with Roman Catholics. Now, what does that have to do with me being Lutheran? Well, Lutherans are one step removed from Catholics, so I was a little worried.

However, my worry was all for naught. Nanaw and I got along pretty swimmingly when it came to discussing faith. We had several good conversations regarding things; however, I personally never failed to inject the fact that we Lutherans have a thing for alcoholic beverages–something good Baptists should consider at some time. Nanaw always laughed at my commentary, even when I tried to lead her down the road to temptation. She never gave in, though. She held tried and true to her convictions, here. Even toward the end when she was in pain and was taking ice chips, Nanaw remained firm.

I remember sitting at her bedside and watching my wife give Nanaw some ice chips. I didn’t think the ice was chipped up fine enough, so I told Nanaw that I was going to take that ice and put it in the blender and make it more fine. I then added, “And I might just add a little something to that ice so that by the time you finish it, you won’t be feeling any pain at all!”

Nanaw grinned and shook her head. “No, she said, “That’s all right.” Leave it to Nanaw to hold steadfast to her position.

That was one of the things about her, when Nanaw thought she was right about
something, she wasn’t budging. And she wasn’t afraid of telling you what she thought about it. From raising children, to how one should dress, to how someone should act in a given situation, Nanaw wasn’t going to hold back her opinion. In fact, sometimes she would flat out tell you that you should or shouldn’t be doing something.

When my son, Kevin, was born, he had a little case of jaundice. My wife and I were under strict doctor’s orders to take Kevin and put him in direct sunlight for 2 to 3 minutes at a stretch to help break down the jaundice. Well, many of you probably know the old wives tale about taking a kid outside and exposing him to the wind and sun. Well, Nanaw knew that tale very, very well.

In fact, when we first brought Kevin home, I immediately took him out for some sun exposure. Nanaw just happened to be outside at the time, and I could tell what was coming by the look on her face. So, I did the only thing I could think of at the time–I looked her square in the eye and said, “The doctor ordered it Nanaw, so don’t even start.”

Well, she didn’t start. At least with me. She proceeded to head in and start telling Linda and Dawna and anyone else who would listen that these new ways that they were raising kids were so different now and that no one would have ever done that in her day and time. Which, she was probably right about that, but it still didn’t stop us from following the doctor’s orders.

Nanaw, though came from the old school on such things. She believed in being pretty conservative, in politics, in religion, and in how family should work. That, of course, didn’t mean her life was perfect. She had her troubles in areas, but she had the perseverance to try to work through them to the best of her ability. Take for instance when her first husband, Arky, died. Nanaw entered into a very dark time in her life. She struggled with depression, but over time, she worked through those dark days and found quite a bit of joy.

Her great grandchildren especially brought her joy and happiness. She would do just about anything for those little kids. She even did the unthinkable–I don’t know where your mind has just gone at this point, but I’ll clear things up for you. Many of you probably don’t know this, but Nanaw was terrified of being in the water. You could no more get her in a swimming pool than you could get her to take a nip of brandy. But, one weekend, Dawna and I took the girls to visit Uncle Gardy in Houston. Nanaw was visiting too, and it just so happened that Gardy had a pool. Kiera loved being in the pool and swimming around in her little boat. Guess who threw caution in the wind and climbed in the pool with her great-granddaughter? That’s right, she did, and I’ve got the pictures to prove it. She did take some ribbing from various family members for attempting such a thing.

And speaking of ribbing, I’ve got to tell this one on her. On Nanaw’s birthday a couple of years ago, we all gathered at Linda’s house for a little party. We had a great meal, cooked by my mother-in-law, and followed it up with cake and other sweets. Nanaw had just been diagnosed with cancer, and she was feeling tired. She decided to leave a little early, so she got up and proceeded to tell her good-bye’s. She came up to me, and before she could say anything, I said, “I am sure glad you got to see me today.”

Nanaw laughed a little, smiled at me and said, “I sure am glad that I got to see you too, because every time I see you, you keep getting more handsome and better looking.” Nanaw could lay it on pretty thick sometimes.

At this point, I grinned a huge grin. I put my arm around Nanaw’s shoulders, and I said, “You know, I wish I could say the same to you, Nanaw. But every time I see you, you keep getting older and more wrinkly.”

There was a collective gasp in the room. I think everyone expected Nanaw to rip me a new one right then and there, but you know what happened? Nanaw threw her head back and laughed out loud. She hugged me and headed out the door, much to the amazement of everyone around. Apparently, she needed that laugh, and I’m glad I was able to supply it.

The thing about it, Nanaw is now not getting any older. She’s not getting more wrinkly. She’s no longer in pain and agony from her cancer. She’s no longer crying any tears of sadness. She’s with Jesus now. She’s got a new body, one that no longer hungers or thirsts or feels the scorching heat. God has wiped every tear from her eyes, and now she is truly experiencing joy that knows no end.

Last Thursday, Nanaw breathed her last, earthly breath. When she died, she opened her eyes, and tears came gushing forth. I have a theory as to why those tears flowed. I believe she stood at the feet of her creator, and He welcomed her home. She knew great joy at that moment, and her last earthly act was to shed the last tears she would shed for all eternity. We will miss you Nanaw, but we know that you are at peace; we know you are at rest; we know that you are with God, and for that reason, we rejoice.