Grandma’s Eulogy

We are all here today to celebrate the life of Christina Constance Elizabeth Demello Roberts. Some of us called her grandma, others mom, but most people just knew her as Chris.

This season, this year, has had many challenges. We have all probably faced at some point sadness, disappointment, fear, frustration, and above all, change. This year, I was reminded often of a lesson my mom has taught me over the years, to treasure the good times because they won’t last forever and to endure the bad times because they too won’t last forever. That life is a series of ups and downs.

Ecclesiastes says something similar

When times are good, be happy;

but when times are bad, consider this:

God has made the one

as well as the other.

Therefore, no one can discover

anything about their future.

It left me thinking a lot about seasons and change.

Why I like Ecclesiastes is that it is a book much like Proverbs, and Psalms and Lamentations; it is full of allegory, sayings, and metaphors. And its purpose was to argue that there is nothing “under the sun” that is capable of giving meaning to life. Even if some level of fulfillment were achieved, death is waiting.

Frustration and adversity are unavoidable, and answers to the hard questions of life are not always apparent. With this in mind, the book confronts the uncertainty of life and shows the need for resurrection to bring harmony out of the discord of reality.

This book also had a lot to say about seasons. So I want to share one passage from the book.

There is a time for everything,

and a season for every activity under the heavens:

a time to be born and a time to die,

a time to plant and a time to uproot,

a time to kill and a time to heal,

a time to tear down and a time to build,

a time to weep and a time to laugh,

a time to mourn and a time to dance,

a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,

a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,

a time to search and a time to give up,

a time to keep and a time to throw away,

a time to tear and a time to mend,

a time to be silent and a time to speak,

a time to love and a time to hate,

a time for war and a time for peace.

What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. 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. I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil — this is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that people will fear him.

Whatever is has already been,

and what will be has been before;

and God will call the past to account. — Ecclesiastes 3:1–15

While this season may be marked with mourning, soon it will be time to dance. And while it may be a season for tears, soon it will be time to laugh.

Grandma tasked me with the eulogy a little more than a year ago. She said, “you’re reading mine just the way you did for grandpa.” I will try to give her the same promise I gave grandpa. He said, “if you cry too much, I’m going to hop out of the casket and just read it myself.”

Grandma once told me and all the grandkids one summer day when we weren’t doing the chores she asked us to do, she said “every step I take just takes a day off my life.” We laughed at her melodrama then and we do now. Because today she would be celebrating her 81st birthday. She was proud of her age, and if what she said was true, then I say we all did a good job of making sure she was taken care of.

From weekend outings to the store to car rides to family events, and countless Fridays and Saturdays of keeping her company at bingo, we tried to let her know she was loved by her family by spending a little time. But, if I were to pick the MVP of taking care of grandma, it was definitely grandpa.

For better or worse, that man cared a whole lot about making sure she was happy. This is why we had to teach grandma how to put gas in her car in her 70s.

Those two were married for 57 years before grandpa passed. Grandma would be quick to tell you that it wasn’t easy. Their long marriage was marked with seasons of great difficulty of uncertainty and frustration, but they taught us the value of perseverance and forgiveness. When grandma was in the hospital, she had a photo of him and she kissed it and proudly told the nurse that he was her husband.

When grandpa died, I made it my mission to make sure she knew she was cute since Grandpa couldn’t tell her, and she’d huff and laugh and say “oh whatever” or “Stop it.” She also refused to get a boyfriend because she already had a husband and didn’t want to have to train another one. She did however make a point to say that if she did have a boyfriend it wouldn’t be any old man she’d have to take care of. Nope, she wanted a young one.

There was a vivid moment I remember when grandpa passed and his body was being carried away. She leaned over and kissed him on the forehead and whispered, “I will see you soon.” I have no doubt those two souls are seeing each other right now.

The symmetry between those two passing is hard to miss. A hospital bed by a window, family all around looking at photos, laughing, and for some reason, we’re always eating pizza. It’s a sweet way to say goodbye to the ones you love.

Grandma’s legacy is that she was a teacher to her kids and her grandkids (and, honestly, any other kid who fell into her orbit). She was proud that she taught us how to read and write, and she did so by having us complete activity books. It wasn’t just the grandkids, pretty much any kid in her sphere was taught something. Beyond reading and math, she also was proud of her ability to teach discipline. She wasn’t afraid to tell you how to listen, be good, and that you work when it’s time to work and you play when it’s time to play.

Grandma’s legacy isn’t just that she cared about kids, but that she cared about anyone who was alone and down for the count. I remember when she packed all of us grandkids into her car on Tuesdays and we’d walk into a nursing home in North Tulsa to sing songs and hand out fruit and other treats. She’d tell us how important it is we go there because no one else really visits them.

There were also many of us who lived with her when times were tough. Myself included. She listened to troubles and told us exactly what she thought whether we wanted to hear it or not.

I think there are traits of grandma we’ll always remember. For example, she was frustratingly clean. I think we can all attest to the never-ending chores she had planned for us. As a kid, I did not look forward to dusting, vacuuming, picking weeds but mom would tell me, “I don’t care what she wants you to do, if grandma is happy, then I am happy. And If I am happy, you are happy.” I now see some of those same habits in myself.

There are traits we all didn’t get to witness. Like her rambunctious young self, and I know this because John shares stories of them throwing water balloons at cars and there is something about a fish and air conditioner. I am not sure the details but I do know she caused mischief.

As her family, I think we also didn’t want to let her down. I think the best example of someone going above and beyond to not disappoint grandma is when Michael ate a large number of pancakes one morning after mom and he snuck out to get breakfast together. Instead of saying to grandma “no mom, I am not hungry. We already ate.” The two decided to consume a painful amount of food. Well, Michael did, mom escaped by playing the “I am a girl and I don’t want a big breakfast card.” Somehow, the fear of making grandma upset outweighed the discomfort of eating breakfast twice.

I think we all wanted grandmas seal of approval at some point in our lives. Well, except Adam, he was her favorite. But maybe more than her approval we all were just trying to avoid her iconic disappointed face. Tightly pursed lips, slight frown, and head shaking “no” very slowly. That’s when you know you did it, and she wasn’t pleased. Somehow that look can pierce right into your soul.

Even if she had moments of disapproval, I know she was proud of everyone. The reason I know this, is that no matter where she lived, in Oologah or Claremore or even at the hospital, she was most proud of her family pictures.

She made a point that even in her small apartment she would have a picture of each one of you. And she looked at them, a lot, every day. She even talked to them some times, as if you could hear her. She also kept all the things you made her or gave her, and somehow she never forgot who did what. She’d say, Kristy, guess who made this or guess who gave me that. And I would say, “I don’t know grandma, who?”

There is an ache deep down when you lose someone you love. But, my hope and prayer are that the ache you feel is soothed with knowing she lives on in each of us.

Her stubbornness, her generosity, her silliness, her fierce love for family, lives on in each of us because she taught us these things during her long life.

But be careful, her ability to sometimes say the wrong thing at the wrong time, her colorful jokes, and her temper also lives on in each of us.

I hope the ache you feel is also soothed with knowing that right now she doesn’t feel pain, she doesn’t feel frustration at a failing memory, she doesn’t feel the same ache of loss she couldn’t shake after grandpa died because I am certain those two souls are celebrating a big reunion.

So today, we say goodbye for now. We hold onto the memories she built with us, the lessons she taught us, the love she showed us. I will tell you, grandma, the same thing I told grandpa. Congratulations on running the good race. We will all see you again, eventually. Oh and happy birthday.