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Jotting Judi


Posted by: tdt -

What a legacy!

    Last week I went to an estate sale.  As I stepped into the trailer where the precious 90-year-old grandma lived, my memory drew me back to Michigan and thoughts of my own precious grandparents whose company I enjoyed until they were 90. What a legacy!
As a child, I loved “sleeping over” at their house. I have vivid memories of life in the ‘40’s.  Breakfast was important to grandma.  She never poured out cold cereal or handed me a pop tart. (Well, pop tarts weren’t even around!)  Snuggled in the big bed upstairs I woke to the crackle of bacon and the smell of fresh, fried potatoes and eggs as they cooked.  Scrambling out of bed, I paused to peek in the bedroom where my great-grandma slept. (I thought that one day I might catch her still in bed.)  There she was, dressed in a crisp, clean housedress, hair combed and her shoes on, sitting in her straight chair reading God’s Word.  What a legacy!
Hurrying to the kitchen, I crawled up on my grandpa’s lap.  His bib overalls smelled like outdoors and I knew he had already completed his first round of early morning farm chores.  I lingered there drinking in his love and an occasional sip of his coffee.  What a legacy!
I scampered from his lap just long enough to take the “special breakfast platter” from Grandma and carry it to the table.  Grandpa would smile and say “Why, Judi Ann, did you make that for me?” (I have the platter.) What a legacy!
I remember the day in third grade when my daddy came to school to get me.  Great-grandma had gone home to be with Jesus.  They found her that morning, propped up in her bed, hands folded across the Bible on her lap.  What a legacy!
I remember Sunday mornings at church.  Grandpa handed out the bulletins to all who came.  When it was time for church, I sat on the giant knot in the rope as Grandpa lifted me up and down ringing the huge bell.  What a legacy!
In later years my grandparents lived in a trailer house just behind our home.  I could watch grandpa as he nurtured his vegetable garden and pampered the flowers.  Some mornings, I would find a bowl of bright red raspberries, bursting with dew drops, on our kitchen table.  He picked them early for us to enjoy for breakfast.  What a legacy!
Times have changed.  Many families have little time for “legacy building.”  I want Kaylor and Hudson to have “legacy moments” to always remember.  They are only one and two, but already they know about “rickshaw rides,” trips to the park, snuggling, Bible stories and time on the porch swing.  They know exactly where Grandpa keeps the “special toy,” reserved ONLY for them! They get “lap time” when we play Scrabble with their parents.   With the TV off, our time is theirs.
Psalm 78 reminds us that our children must hear what our fathers have told us so they may be faithful to the Lord.  Pause!  Practice “legacy building.”

My Grandpa


He was a small, gentle man, a tiller of the ground,
He had a ruddy, outdoor look, a smile, not a frown.
He always held me very close and called me Judi Ann,
He was so very special, had a firm and loving hand.
He had a special candy dish, and filled it to the brim,
He always played “dominoes” until his eyes grew dim.
He had a cunning way with plants, grew roses everywhere,
He always chose a pretty one and put it in my hair.
He was the “keeper of the door” within the House of God,
He rang the bell on Sunday morn, if absent it seemed odd.
He greeted each and every soul who came to worship there,
He handed out the bulletins with tender love and care.
He’s gone to be with Jesus now; I miss him more and more,
He’s surely standing at the gate, still “keeper of the door.”
He’s waiting there to welcome me, a rose within his hand,
He’s standing there and watching, to welcome, Judi Ann.
Judi Wiegman
1979