Glenda
is my cousin. And, for what now seems a
lifetime ago, she was my friend, traveling companion, and confidant.
As
children, Glenda and I spent summer days at Grandpa Anderson’s house creating
whatever world we chose to live in for the day.
Some days we would load all of our worldly possessions into the family
car parked in the driveway, climb into the front seat and head for California
or other far-away places. We didn’t need
the car keys, or money for gas or lodging.
All we needed were our imaginations and that supply never ran dry. A walk to the local grocery store on a summer
day could turn into a raging blizzard as we fought against howling winds and
life-threatening elements that no one else could experience.
At
the end of such an eventful day, we would lie under the moon-soaked window of
her tiny bedroom and plan the rest of our lives. And, like our imaginations, our plans knew no
bounds. The cool breeze was a welcome
relief from the summer heat – and much warmer than the howling “winter” winds
we had survived earlier that day.
Our
lives took different paths, most of which were not in our well-thought-out
summer dreams. Glenda’s ability to step
out of her world and into a better place enabled her to write beautiful poetry
and create cards and shadow boxes to showcase what she had written. I’ve heard how her poetry won awards and how
she used to be invited to read her inspired creations to other poets.
That
she could know such peace in a body that defied her every move and be able to
express such love for and faith in God, in her Jeshua, was God revealing
Himself to us through her. I can
honestly say that I never once heard Glenda complain or feel sorry for herself
over her physical condition. The only
words spoken were words of praise and of hope.
Glenda created yet
another memory. Our grandson, Barrick,
was there. He was about six months old,
I guess. Glenda engaged him by singing
what sounded like a Jewish lullaby to him as only she could sing it. Barrick’s wiggles stopped, his eyes fixed on
hers. He didn’t even notice the
involuntary movement of Glenda’s chair twisting on castors that would not be controlled. He just heard her soft voice and the
beautiful song that was for his ears only – like they were the only two people
in a room filled with people and activity.
What a gift, and on a day when Glenda should have been the only
recipient of gifts.
There was
quite a party going on in Heaven in 2009 and 2010. One reunion after another, after another,
after another… Early on a Saturday morning at
2:30 AM, it was Glenda’s turn to run into the waiting arms of her parents,
grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends - and her Messiah. And run she could. With strong legs that allowed her to dictate
the direction and speed of her arrival.
I can imagine, once again, and I can see Glenda on the team that writes
unending praises to Yahweh. But that’s
where the imagination ends. This time she
really is in a better place.
Thanks
for the memories, Glenda.
