Gram Hockenbery (1935-2021)

(picture of my mom, Gram, and me )

My dear Gram passed away this past Thursday morning. Even though we knew we may not have much time left with her, her death still feels intrusive and painful. Death is like that.

There are numerous, treasured memories I could share:

The trips her and my Grandpa would take, driving half-way to Syracuse to pick me up and bring me to Pennsylvania to stay with them for a week in the summer; one-on-one shopping trips to the mall to pick out new clothes; our chats by the window in her sitting room or on the swing on her front porch about life and the books we were reading; visiting for Christmas and eating her special, soft, sugar cookies; exploring new restaurants or shops in and around her town; walks on the beach; her paying for a trip to France and instilling in me a love for exploring new places and cultures; her coming to stay and help in Syracuse when my Dad needed back surgery; the familiar, comforting smell of her and Grandpa's house; her tapping her steering wheel to a song she liked on the radio, her smile and her big, squishy hugs.

But over the last few days my mind keeps drifting to one particular memory...

Not long ago, I was talking with her on the phone and she started reminiscing about her childhood. I absolutely loved listening to her recount stories from her life, and this is the story she shared with me.

When she was about 6 years old, her mother, Helena Daley died during childbirth, leaving her father to care for four young children on his own. Gram's father worked full time, and eventually, placed her and her brothers in a local orphanage until he remarried 7 years later.

(picture of my Gram and her step-mom, Irene)

When her father was remarried, he brought her and her brothers home to live with him and their new step-mom, Irene. After he would get ready to leave in the morning to go to work. he would line Gram and her brothers up in front of him and say, "If you disobey Irene, I'm sending you back to the orphanage." Amazingly, my Gram chuckled when she told me this. It was only after what she told me next, that I realized why.

When her father walked out the door, Irene would pull Gram and her brothers close, hug them, and say, "You are never going back to the orphanage because I'm your mom."

It didn't matter that Gram wasn't Irene's biological daughter, Gram was Irene's daughter all the same.

Great-grandma Irene was the one who introduced Gram to Jesus, and regularly took Gram and her brothers to church. She vividly illustrated the love of Jesus through the way she loved and took care of Gram and her brothers.

I think the reason this memory keeps drifting back into my thoughts is because this story so vividly painted a picture of the Gospel in my mind. I knew from the way Gram told me the story, that great grandma Irene's love for her and others, impacted Gram's life, not only here on earth, but for eternity. Gram told me many times how she couldn't wait to see her mom waiting for her in heaven at the pearly gates.

I beheld Jesus in the story my Gram shared with me that day.

We can't earn, or in other words, do enough good things to be accepted by God. We all fall short of His glorious, perfect standard. Instead, God offers us a gift: Salvation through Jesus.

The Bible says, "For God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16

When we believe in Jesus, God becomes our Father, and we become His beloved children. As His children, He lovingly teaches us, corrects us, and provides for us. He doesn't send us away when we disobey because we belong to Him. Instead of sending us away, He draws us close, reminds us that we belong to Him, and forgives us. He transforms our hearts and minds to reflect His character, and He guides us toward and in His perfect way.

It's amazing to look back and recognize God's love shining through people and spanning generations!

I am so thankful for all the time Gram invested in my life. She was a voice of wisdom. She was a friend I could call and talk to anytime. She was my sister in Christ, who shared her Bible studies with me and always urged me to pray. Like a warm cup of coffee and a cozy blanket, she was a source of comfort.

She was not a complainer. In fact, countless times when she shared stories from her life, the good and the difficult, she would say, "I've had a good life, Amy. I am truly blessed."

The memories I have with her have become part of who I am. She helped shape the person I am today, and for that, I am truly grateful!

Last year she came and stayed at our house for a couple days. The kids were so excited she was spending the night! We made sure the guest bedroom had fresh linens on the bed, and the guest bathroom had clean towels, soap, and shampoo. The kids played the piano for her, Julian made chili and corn bread, and her and I sat on the couch and talked for hours. More memories...

After she left, I don't know why exactly, but the kids started calling the guest bedroom and bathroom the "Grandma" bedroom and bathroom.

Now I know we will always call it that.

It's a physical reminder that Gram is always with us, and for me personally, it will be a reminder to shine the love of Jesus to my family and others, the way she did and the way great grandma Irene did. It will be a reminder to generously and cheerfully open my heart and my home and give. Give of my time and treasure to help others feel loved and accepted, and ultimately point them to Jesus.

I love you Gram, always.

I'll see you again, and when I do, we won't ever have to say goodbye.