Gone Ten Years but Not Forgotten

In Memory of June Reed, Beloved Grandmother

In that space between wakefulness and dreams, I hear your soft voice calling my name.  I close my eyes and remember clearly as if it were just yesterday waking up on a summer morning to the sound of Uncle Jerry coming in from his woodworking shop as the kitchen door squeaks heartily.  You are puttering in the kitchen with a cup of hot coffee, and I smell waffles cooking.  The gentle sound of the furnace humming and the washing machine in the kitchen is hard at work.  I feel comforted and loved in your tiny abode as you place me on your lap for gentle back rubs while reading me my favorite storybooks.  We sit outside on the old porch swing on lazy summer nights, watching cars kick up dust on the rocky road and listening to distant cheers from the baseball diamond.  I delight in childish pursuits of pretending, tea parties, games at dusk, and outdoor tag chases.  I still feel the exciting terror of setting off fire crackers in the air and the thrill of running through the neighborhood to the park or the Soldier cemetery with my cousins.  You let us dress up in your clothes and wear your costume jewelry.  You give us pieces of material to make dresses for our dolls, and we convert your kitchen chairs into pretend doll houses.  You always have a special meal at noon with crispy fried chicken, salty corn on the cob, or a bowl of your savory spaghetti.  Your kitchen table is laden with frosty glasses of lemonade, ripe tomatoes from the garden, colorful jello molded in special shapes, and juicy canned goods.  The sweet tangy taste of your canned rhubarb gives me a sense of satisfaction.  Each night before bed, you  make us buttery pieces of toast, crunchy popcorn, or a heaping bowl of vanilla ice cream.   

 You showed us in a hundred small gestures that you loved us, and you made each one of us feel special.  You fretted and worried and prayed for us, and your gentle strength inspired us to be our best.  You were the rock of our family, and your presence was an anchor for us all.

Some nights I would lie awake on your bed, tears spilling from my youthful eyes with the thought of losing you.  How could I ever go on without my dear sweet grandmother?  You lived a long and full life.  You had the satisfaction of watching all of your grandchildren grow up to lead successful productive lives and marry well, raising families of their own.  As you entered your 90's and your body grew tired and weary, you held on a bit longer to see your grandchildren visit one last time.  I still remember the last time I traveled the many miles to visit you at the nursing home.  You just held my hand, kissed me, and repetitively told me, "I love you."  My spirit grieved because I knew that it would be the last time I would see you alive.  I knew that you were ready to enter a new life in your heavenly home.  Two months later, I received the call that you were gone, and there was an empty place in my heart that ached for one more moment in that little house with you.  Sometimes I would dream that I was back at the old house, my heart was happy to know you were alive and with us again.  I couldn't see your face, but I sensed your presence, and I knew that those memories would always be a cherished part of my life. 

It is hard to believe you have been gone 10 years.  How could I ever forget what you have meant to all of us?  I will always remember the gracious grandma that loved us unconditionally.  When you left us for eternity, visions of your little house ebbed away at my spirit and inspired me to write a poem to express my cherished memories...

Grandma’s House

Grandma’s House was built with strong hands,

With Faith, and with the tenderness of a mother’s love…

She welcomed me into her house, her heart opened

To pass on her love to this tiny baby cradled tenderly

In her gentle arms

And Love gave birth once again at Grandma’s house

Grandchildren filled her house with the song of laughter

Little feet running into her kitchen, delighting in simple

Childhood games and weaving memories together

And Grandma’s love stretched out to them like Lilies In June

That flourished in the garden outside Grandma’s house

Summers at Grandma’s house were flavored with the scents

Of Grandma’s garden, of canning rhubarb

The sweet juices of garden corn and red tomatoes dribbled

Down my chin, chicken frying, and endless cookies to bake

In the evenings, we rocked on the old porch swing

Grandma shared stories, and I shared dreams

She chased my nightmares away when I was afraid

She nursed me to health when I was sick

And Grandma’s love always persevered

When we stayed at Grandma’s house

A young woman, I returned again to Grandma’s house

Although the distance had grown between our dwellings,

Our love held us close through the many miles

She held my own precious baby girl, her tender eyes glowing

With love for her brand new great grandchild

And her heart once again expanded to draw in love

Because more younguns have filled Grandma’s house

Grandma’s house is a bridge to my dreams

I close my eyes and the memories come…

I am once again at Grandma’s house

I can still remember the sounds, the smells

The quiet strength of Faith she upheld

I can still hear her voice, calling my name

The soft noise of her rustling in her kitchen

I drink in my surroundings, my memory grasping

Every detail, trinket, picture and book

The kisses she stole and hugs she gave

Her “I love you’s” and her soft touch

And that is how memories have been built of Grandma’s house

Now a new house has been prepared for Grandma,

Where the streets are paved with gold and angels dance

The divine hand of Christ brings her home,

He whispers like rushing waters, “Well done Good and Faithful Servant”

Grandpa is there too, along with all her dear family and friends

They welcome her home

Grandma leaves us with her sweet memories to share

And with hope and faith, we will delight in that day when

Once again we are welcomed into Grandma’s house

And the Lord said:

“DO NOT LET YOUR HEARTS BE TROUBLED.  TRUST IN GOD,

TRUST ALSO IN ME.  IN MY FATHER’S HOUSE ARE MANY ROOMS:

IF IT WERE NOT SO, I WOULD HAVE TOLD YOU.  I AM GOING THERE

TO PREPARE A PLACE FOR YOU.  AND IF I GO AND

PREPARE A PLACE FOR YOU, I WILL COME BACK

AND TAKE YOU TO BE WITH ME

THAT YOU MAY ALSO KNOW WHERE I AM”

JOHN 14:1-4

--Darcee Zehm

January 16, 2009

read at June Reed's funeral 

Entertaining Angels (...a vision in the clouds)

"He has made everything beautiful in its time.  He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end."  Ecclesiastes 3:11

There once was a  child who looked towards the sky with a heart bent towards eternity.  Her soul's craving desired for the unseen.   Childhood fantasies floated in dreams of hot air balloons and snowman dances among the twilight stars.  Dreams of Peter Pan whisking her away to the unknown and ethereal beauty of childhood yearnings.  If only she could fly away and escape to her skyward dreams.  A child whose dear Noma came to her in a dream, a vision of mystery the night Noma passed on to eternity.  She yearned for angels and sacredness, seeking something epic and sacred when she said goodbye to the aged woman whose presence was a beacon to her infancy and childhood memories.

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There once was an Australian child named Helen who lived a world of heartache and childhood fantasies.  Fatherless at 7, desperate to escape the pain that pierced like a bottle of drunken stupor that tore her innocence and brought her reality of broken dreams.  Whisked away from the familiar, a sojourner in a foreign land, she looked towards the sky with a heart bent towards eternity.  Her soul's cravings desired for the unseen.  Those childhood fantasies an escape by dreams of glory, and out of her soul's hunger, she conceived the nanny who would bring order to her chaotic cistern of empty hopes.

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There once was a young woman who never gave up her childish fantasies for skyward dreams and flying away on a cloud, dreaming of something precious and sacred that she could not put her finger on.  She turned to God but never quite trusted the fullness of His gentle grace.  She longed to flee from her past and turn to something unseen.  At 22, she ran away from everything she knew, seeking wholeness and escape by reshaping her identity, yet she could not find that which was just beyond her grasp.  She dreamed of freedom and eternal delights, sketching angels on her bedroom wall and searching for relief from the pain that was just beyond the surface of her sorrow.

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There once was a young woman named Helen, longing to escape her past and reshape her identity.  She sought the stage and turned to spiritual vices to fill those empty places in her soul.  Turning to worldly truth to chase the shadows of her dark memories.  Out of her despair and her need to redeem the father she loved and lost, came a new name and the guardian angel she fabricated to bring hope and restoration to her troubled soul.  From the ashes emerged the writer and the story that would change everything.

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There once was a young woman who waited in the delivery room, feeling alone and scared.  She curled up on the slim hospital bed, her fears abated by the stillness of something sacred that quieted her troubled soul.  In a vision, she felt a holy presence, like angels standing before her.  A voice spoke quietly to her spirit, "Darcee, I am here.  I know your family couldn't be with you so I came to tell you you are not alone."  She wasn't ready to face her past or the Redeemer Who longed to heal her and fill her with ultimate peace.  Instead, she witnessed the loving comfort of a grandfather she had never known in this lifetime but felt kindred to his love.  The man in the picture who would have been about her age.  He was there at the hospital bed and she felt overwhelmed with a unspoken tranquility.  The next day, she delivered a beautiful baby girl, and she would never be the same.   Nine months later, she had another vision.  This time, she was called out by the One Who created her and called her to be His child.  He told her it was time for her to follow Him, a call she could have tried to ignore but it penetrated through the armor and the facade, and with it a true healing peace washed over her.  That moment, she came to realization of the full weight of redemption by the One Who was pierced to save her pierced soul, and she was finally free!

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"Winds in the east, theres a mist comin'in like somethin' is brewin' and 'bout to begin.  Can't put me finger on what lies in store, but I feel what's to happen all happened before.  A father, a mother, a daughter a son- the threads of their lives unraveling undone- somethin' is needed to twest'em as tight, like string you might use when you're flyin'a kite..."  Prologue:  Chim Cher-ee

The young woman, Helen, turned to the sky to find something true and sacred.  Out of the mystery of her troubled past and uncertain identity, she brought something that touched the hearts of children and adults alike, a story of timeless proportions.  Though she knew not the Redeemer that speaks to the heart and soul of her being, His purpose stood in glimpses of the sky for the heart that yearned for a Redeemer to descend from the heavens.  Instead, she created the guardian angel, the nanny, and the mysterious being that one could not quite place her true identity-- the one who came from the sky to right wrongs and heal troubled hearts.  The nanny came from the clouds, NOT to save the children, but the parents who were weighed down by the cares of life and the despair of emptiness.  Out of the sky flew in Hope, and those she touched somehow found joy in simple childhood pleasures--a soul craving for a Redeemer who could dry tears and calm the chaos.

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Two lives destined in the parallel between distance in generations and geography, merged in the desires for a hunger that cannot be satisfied by worldly pursuits.  Each taking different paths yet vessels for an eternal weight of glory that renewed the spirit and satisfied the soul.  The mystery of God's working in such vastly different lives-- the unchanging Creator Who shall not be moved setting in their souls a desire for something greater, something that the heavens declared.  A glimpse of angels, visions, and stories that all point to a Redeemer that would one day come from the sky with simple joy, childlike faith, and dried tears.  A Redeemer who can work through small miracles--a vision of both a Noma who came to say goodbye and a grandfather in his youth who came to welcome new life, and a story of a nanny who came in the clouds to restore broken hearts.  A Redeemer who worked out His eternal purpose in the heart of a young lady from Kansas that yearned for something greater and an Australian woman who never knew Him yet whose heart was set for eternity.  These were a foretaste of something whole, something to come, something better, something worth waiting for...

"Behold, he is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see him..."   Revelation 1:7A

This is the story of how God works His redemptive plans in the hearts and souls of his creation through visions, stories, and yearnings for someone to make right the pain that the world inflicts on the human soul.  I always loved stories like Peter Pan, the Snowman, and Mary Poppins which evoked my desire to fly and find the freedom I so longed.  My fascination with angels happened sometime after my first babysitter, Noma, passed away and came to me in a dream to tell me goodbye and let me know how much she loved me.  A few years later, my parents gave me a picture of a guardian angel that I absolutely adored and found comfort having on the wall in my bedroom.  In my 20's, I tried to escape my past by moving to Wisconsin.  At that time, I turned to external pleasures for hope and relief from my pain; however, I could not find it in human relationships or other vices.  In my pursuit for relief, I thought back to the picture my parents gave me and ended up staying up all night sketching a mural of a guardian angel on bedroom wall in hopes of finding peace in my chaotic soul.  Nine months later,  I was pregnant and ready to deliver my first child.  I felt alone and scared, yet touched by a mysterious peace in a vision of my deceased grandfather, whose presence was with me the night before I delivered our daughter, Annika.  The next nine months were very turbulent, but came to full circle the night Christ Himself came to me in a vision and told me it was time to follow Him.   His words brought me the realization that all the other desires, dreams, vices, and visions were like vapor in comparison to the real peace, glory, and simple joy Christ would offer.

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My daughter and I recently went to see the movie Mary Poppins Returns, a story that once had evoked fascination in my youthful mind that desired for someone to come flying in from the clouds and set me free from my pain.  A few years ago, I had studied life of  author, P.L. Travers (formally Helen Goff), a woman with a troubled past who lived an unusual and isolated life, searching spiritual wisdom through New Age philosophy.  After watching Mary Poppins Returns, I suddenly perceived the parallels between Mary Poppins, a woman who came from the sky to restore the pain of the Banks family who just were a little too "adult" and missing out on the simple joy of childhood pleasures, and the Christ who will someday come in the clouds to restore all of humanity.  I believe that the true beauty of this fairy tale is something P.L. Travers could never have conceived by the worldly wisdom she sought after-- a foretaste of the hope we long for the wholeness that only Christ can offer.   I find myself amazed how God's redemptive story can work its way through us imperfect humans who are looking elsewhere for satisfaction and comfort, yet God's plan still stands firm. God will speak eternity into all hearts and He shall not be moved!

"He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away."  Revelation 21:4

For more about my story of redemption, you can also read these previous blog posts:

https://dzehm.blogspot.com/2013/04/engaging-grace.html

https://dzehm.blogspot.com/2017/05/the-dare-part-1-dare-for-redemption.html