When I told my first graders that I would be absent in order to go to a funeral, most of them started eagerly asking, “What’s a funeral?!” or “Who died?!” in their innocent childlike way. But then one little girl raised her hand and sweetly asked, “Who are you celebrating?” And she could not have asked a better question. I needed to be reminded that we were going to celebrate life, and that is just what my family did.

I have been blessed to have known and loved all of my grandparents. Growing up, they all lived close by and I was able to spend ample amounts of time with them. As I got older, I got to really know each of them and develop deep and meaningful relationships with them. It wasn’t until my twenties that my first grandparent passed away. Since then, the Lord has called home all four of my grandparents.

I had the honor of getting to share my love for my grandparents at each of their funerals. While that was definitely nerve wrecking, I am so grateful that I had the opportunity to publicly share my personal memories and the influence they each made on my life. I will forever remember celebrating each of their lives, but I would like to share those memories again. For anyone who might have had the opportunity to know and love one of my grandparents, here are the remarks I had the privilege of sharing at each of their funerals. Let’s continue to celebrate their lives.

Gram

Carmelita Walker
1932-2021

When I think about our Gram, the first words out of my mouth are usually, “Sweet Grammy” followed by a smile and a chuckle. She was full of love, elegance, tastefulness, wisdom, encouragement, kindness, stubbornness, pride, opinions, generosity, grace, determination, and quirks all rolled into one grandma. Her quirks were some of my favorite things about her and will always be a part of how I remember her. For example, she used to drive with both feet, using her right foot for the gas and her left foot for the brake. I tried that once and almost got thrown through my windshield after using my left foot on the brake. I do not recommend it. She also loved meals. Meals were the center point of her and Grandoc’s days. They both especially loved going out to eat. She would always order for both of them because she knew what Doc wanted and he never knew. Then when the food would come, she ate it like a rabbit but at turtle speeds. She would pick at it little by little. We could all be finished and her plate would still be full. But we all sat and waited with her because meal time was her favorite time of day. It didn’t matter how long it took, the conversation and the slow eating was worth it all to her. Then when she was done, she’d get a reusable toothpick out of her purse. Her purse and her car were full of not just toothpicks, but also tissues. Gram always had a toothpick and a crumpled up tissue in her hand or sticking out of her bag. So she’d use her toothpick after the meal, then get back in her car and put the toothpick either in her bag or the dash. Use another tissue, then drive with both feet back home. Gram was full of quirks and I’ll always smile when I think of them. But nothing holds a candle to the memories I shared with her.

Growing up, I looked forward to spending time with her. Gram and Doc lived in the same house for most of my life and the memories made there will always have an impact on me. As an itty bitty thing, I can remember taking baths in her big kitchen sink and getting to play with the spray hose. Then I graduated to their big jacuzzi tub which made me feel like such a big kid. She loved making me waffles or fruity pebbles for breakfast and making frozen pizza for dinner. Meals were always served on a TV tray in their house. Watching shows and movies together was part of the experience. We would make trips to Blockbuster every time I visited and she’d let me pick out whatever movies I wanted. There was never a limit to how many movies, so we’d leave with a huge stack of VHS tapes even if it was just for one night. She loved watching movies with me and would stay up as late as I stayed up, sitting right there with me. Books were Gram’s favorite pastime, though. Unfortunately, I was a struggling reader as a kid and it frustrated me to read. But Gram never stopped encouraging and challenging me to read. She would read several books to me at bedtime every time I spent the night with her. One of my absolute favorites was “The Little Train That Could.” To this day, I still recite his famous words when I feel like I’m climbing a mountain that’s too big to face, “I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.” And my sweet Grammy’s face comes to mind to encourage me every time. But as I got older, “Little Women” became our bedtime book. She’d read it aloud and I’d listen while curled up next to her. That classic story now has so much more meaning because of my Gram. She also loved history, another subject I struggled with as a kid. But she found ways to instill an interest in both history and reading through American Girl Dolls. For years, she would give me a new American Girl Doll each Christmas, along with all of its historical books and doll accessories. I actually learned a lot about American history through those dolls. Sweet Grammy never gave up on challenging my intellectual abilities, and I’m so glad she didn’t. Because today I get to instill a love for learning in kids in the same way my Gram instilled it in me. And because I was a struggler, I know how to help my struggling students. Just like my sweet Grammy was with me, I am patient with them, work alongside them, and find things that interest them to innovate a different way for them to understand and retain the content. I will always be grateful for her support. I truly believe I am a better teacher because of her. But I hope I can also show more of her character and spirit filled actions throughout my life.

Gram was always there for me, whether tangibly by my side lending an ear or in the quiet background sending prayers my way. She was a fervent prayer warrior and as a grandma she was relentless in praying for her grandchildren. I will miss having her in my corner, not only for her anointed prayers but also for her encouragement and generosity. She was always asking questions about how I was doing, genuinely interested in what was taking place and how everything was going. Her love for our son ran deep. She always lit up when she saw him and always commented on how much she loved his red curly hair. The interest, care, and adoration she expressed towards our boy will forever be engraved in my memory. But I hope and pray that I can be as invested in my children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren as she was invested in all of us. She wanted to know as much as possible about our lives and was always ready to give words of encouragement or even generously help however she could without hesitation. I will truly miss her ever present hands and words in my life.

But my favorite memory of my sweet Grammy is one that only her and I cherished. Even the last time I saw her a few months ago, she mentioned the memory and asked if I remembered. Of course I remembered and I always will. Gram loved clowns. She had a huge collection of clowns and loved showing them off. But honestly they really freaked me out as a little kid. I’d even duck walking past them to get something out of the kitchen. But she loved them and I hated to disappoint her. Thankfully, there was one clown that I actually liked. It sat on a high shelf in the living room so I felt a safe distance away. It was holding a trumpet and could be wound up to play a song. She’d wind it up and “When the Saints Go Marching” would start playing loudly and triumphantly. I loved it. I loved it so much that I started marching around the living room, asking her to play it over and over again. The two of us marched around and around, singing “Oh when the saints go marching in, oh Lord I want to be in that number when the saints go marching in.” I will always remember the huge smile across her face and joyful laugh that she let out as we marched together. And although I am no longer a little girl and she is no longer able to march with me on this earth, I cannot wait until we can march together again as true saints in the presence of God.

Gram, if you’re listening, I hope you know how much I love you and how much you will be missed. Your legacy will forever be remembered and cherished. But we will see you again when the saints go marching in.

Grandoc

Dr. Paul Walker
1932-2021

For grandparents day in elementary school, I was asked to write character traits to describe my grandparents. When it was time to share, I stood up and told the crowded room full of grandparents that my Grandoc was like an owl. Wise and old. Everyone laughed but I wasn’t sure why at the time. While I understand now that “old” is not the most endearing character trait, I still stand by my original observation: that he was wise. Not only was he wise, but he was generous, encouraging, sympathetic, courageous, strong, steadfast, inspiring, and so much more.

Throughout my entire life, I have had people come to me and ask what it is like to have Dr. Paul Walker as my grandfather. I used to think it was such an odd question because I honestly didn’t know any different. But as I got older, I learned from others just how much his ministry impacted them or their families. People were always shocked at how little I knew of all that he had done in his life, but I was always proud of how he never bragged or spent our time together telling me about all he had done. Instead, he spent our time together genuinely interested and invested in me and in how I was doing. He made jokes and poked fun at me, but he would always make me feel important, valued, and loved. As I have grown older, I have come to realize just how special he was and how blessed our family heritage is. I am honored to be apart of this family’s legacy and I am honored to be called his granddaughter. I just hope and pray that I am able to follow God’s calling on my life in the same way that he did. I whole heartedly believe that when he met our Maker’s face, God looked at him and said, “Well done my good and faithful servant.”

We will miss him every moment of every day, but he deserves every bit of that paradise with our Savior. I hope he knows just how proud I am to have had him as my granddad. I will always remember the way he loved retelling old family stories, watching old western movies, eating cookies or vanilla ice cream with chocolate syrup, saying “this is so dumb” at every movie we watched together, laughing at the little things, and welcoming and enjoying people’s company no matter who they were or where they came from. Those memories may be different than the way the rest of the world will remember him, but that’s what makes it so special. His legacy will always be remembered and shared through generations to come, but I get to cherish and keep the memories that only a grandparent can make with their grandchildren, and for that I am beyond grateful.

Mamaw

Peggy Richardson
1942-2017

Mamaw,

Unfortunately, I’m not exactly sure what to say besides “Thank you.” Thank you for always being so willing to give, putting others before yourself. Thank you for sharing your joy and laughter. Thank you for lending an ear to listen. Thank you for caring so deeply for me. Thank you for being a warm comfort and refuge. Thank you for being a constant encourager. Thank you for always making me feel cherished and loved down deep in my soul. And thank you for praying over me without ceasing.

I just hope and pray that you know how deeply YOU are loved and cared for. You have and always will be one of the biggest influences in my life. I long to be a strong, selfless, kindhearted, and God-fearing as you. I love you, Mamaw. I am beyond blessed to be your granddaughter. Thank you. Thank you for being my grandma.

Papaw

Udel Richardson, Sr.
1936-2015

Every time I visited Papaw, I would laugh at him because he was constantly working too hard, getting worked up over something, or franticly searching the house for missing objects. Despite his unwavering focus on the tasks at hand, Papaw never failed to turn his attention towards me to make me feel special. He always called me “Papaw’s girl.” He introduced me to country music when I was a child by giving me LeAnn Rimes’ single “You Light Up My Life” while he was cleaning out his CD collection. He understood my crazy dreams at night and even helped me brush invisible spiders off of me when I woke up screaming from a bad dream. When I would get upset as a toddler, I used to cry for Papaw, saying that Papaw was the only one who could calm me down. He never ceased to make me feel safe, happy, and confident in who God made me to be. I will always look up to him for his strength, confidence, determination, and generosity, always giving anything he could to help others, including me, without ever asking for anything in return.

My favorite memory of Papaw is when he would share his favorite memory of me. He loved to tell me the story of the first word I ever said. He would say, “I was holding you in my arms outside and you looked straight up, pointed to the sky, and said, ‘Moon.’” He told that story to me over and over again as I was growing up and I will always remember the joy on his face every time he shared that memory with me. He was so proud and ecstatic that he was able to be the one that heard my first word. I may not remember that moment but I will always cherish the affect that story had on my Papaw. For as long as I live, I will think of him every time I look at the moon; and no matter what, I will always be “Papaw’s girl.”