From my earliest days, March has always been a month I would think about my paternal grandmother.  She’s the fourth lady from the right, second row, wearing the hat.  She would seldom be seen without one of her hats.  The gentleman next to her is my grandfather.  It is the only photo I have of them, standing before Glenville SDA Church, which is no longer Glenville SDA Church, as of this past weekend, so the only remaining part of my foundation is, well, my foundation.

I could never remember my grandmother’s birthday.  Whether it was the 2nd or 3rd of March.  I also remember visiting my grandfather’s grave when I returned to Cleveland in the mid 90’s.  I needed to grieve.  He died in 1980.  I was suffering from drug addiction and needed to return to a time, where the guidance of that man, though dead, would suffice.  Now, let me say something here:  I do not visit graveyards, nor do I attend wakes or funerals, and I don’t care who the person or relationship was.  My problem is not with the dead, but with the living.  I’m not able to deal with the emotions being expressed.

Secondly, and this is part of the reason for the post:  I don’t buy into the “lie” of satan who has Christians believing in “Home Going” so-called celebrations of the dead.  Although I loved the woman dearly, she ain’t in heaven.  She dead!  Nothing went to heaven, not any soul or anything.  God said, “you die”, satan said, “not really”, so there’s no question in which one I believe.  All that hocus-pocus about afterlife BEFORE Christ returns is spiritualism, a part of Satanism, and surely not Christianity.

What I always considered macabre was when I visited his grave that one time, engraved on the stone was her name and year of birth with a “hyphen” (-) because she wasn’t ready.  I don’t think I would want to visit any place which is waiting for my demise.  And, it is my wish there will be no grave, no services, and cremate this ol’ guy and remember me the way I was.  In fact, sprinkle my ashes on the nearest body of water so I can finally have over my deathly, um, no pun intended, fear of water and swim!

So, Nana, I know you can’t hear this, because it is written for those of us who can, “thank you” for all the Sabbaths you so faithfully brought this grandson to church.  Not missing one, no matter the weather, or if you weren’t feeling well, it just did not matter.  You made certain this grandson was sitting in that second row pew, next to the Treasurer’s office, where my grandfather often visited with me in tow, putting a whupping on my @$$.  Was sort of hard to come out of my “Uncle Bugg’s” office trying to maintain a straight face, but everybody around knew what happened!

While Nana has departed and Gramps before her, and now Glenville is gone, too, there is something to be said about having a well-laid foundation because even though you might go off-track, and I did, it is easier to find “home”, when you need to do so.

Old Glenville

February 29, 2016