I had the honor of given the eulogy at my grandma's funeral yesterday. She died last week, four years and four hours after my grandpa, whose eulogy I also gave. Here is what I had to say...
It is a joyful thing, really, for an old woman full of
family and faith to go to sleep and wake up brand new. So it is not for her death that I
grieve. I celebrate her new life with
Christ. I grieve because she will be
sorely missed and we are very jealous of the joy she now knows.
Melvina was the 2nd of 7 children born in Clinchco, VA
to Nelson and Mary Jane Kaylor. Nelson
was a coal miner. She was saved at age
13 at a tent revival in Cleveland, VA and subsequently baptized in a river there in the Virginia mountains. She was married four years later, at the age
of 17, to a coal miner, my grandpa, Kilby Davis. They were married in her parents’ home and
lived with them for the first few months of marriage, until they moved into a
creekside log cabin owned by her new husband’s grandfather. This is where they began keeping house
together. They had four children over
the next eighteen years, Charles, Ronnie, Judy, and my mom, Barb. Grandma and Grandpa were apparently very calculated,
they obviously had a preference for symmetry – their children were all born five years and five months
apart. And so with the family of six,
the drove north on Route 23. While in Virginia, then Ohio, and
in their late years in Tennessee,
faith and family were of prime importance to her.
To me, grandma was a giant.
She was a legend. She was a hero.
At a slight five feet small, she stood
very tall in my eyes. Big things do come
in small packages. And her enduring
faith and unwavering commitment to God in Jesus Christ was the stuff of legends
for her young grandchildren to see.
The Apostle Paul tells the Christians in Corinth, 'Brothers and sisters,
think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human
standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the
weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly
things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to
nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him. It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become
for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. Therefore, as it is written: "Let those who boast boast in the Lord."'
At just over five feet tall, with no high school degree, never a driver’s license, and a sweet and contagious giggle, grandma fits this job description perfectly. As her grandson, I saw her as invincible, a
tower. I would put her up against the
wisest and the strongest. Her faith and
her love proved this to us. I learned
from her that big things can come in small packages.
Oatmeal Creme Pies. I ate my fair share of these in her home on Fancher Rd. as I
was growing up. Unfortunately, their
nutritional value decreases as we age, and so it’s been awhile since I’ve eaten
one. She always called them, ‘big
cookies.’ It doesn’t look so big now,
now that I’m nearly 30 and have 2, almost 3, children of my own. But again, I learned from grandma that big
things can come in small packages. I’m
sure those of us here, especially the grandchildren, account for a couple
tractor trailers full of big cookies.
She loved to feed people and for this I am personally
grateful. Her ‘left hand gravy’ was a
staple. She only stirred her sausage
gravy with her left hand with a wooden spoon, so when I set out this year to
learn more recipes, sausage gravy and biscuits were on my list. And I can assure you that no wire whisk was
used, and I certainly only stirred with my left hand. (On a side note: if you’ve learned anything
from my grandpa, you put honey on your sausage gravy.)
She loved to feed people in the spiritual sense as
well. In addition to her family, her
faith and life in church were a great joy to her. She loved being a deacon’s wife and a member
of the Women’s Auxiliary at Westerville Free Will Baptist Church,
where they worshiped for 40 years. As
part of her role, she often baked the communion bread, a job she took very
seriously. She would always wear a clean
apron, make sure that she had a quiet kitchen, and go about the task with great
prayer. These are prayers that I know
our Father answers.
Nine years ago, Grandma and Grandpa moved in with Uncle Rich
and Aunt Judy, who I will always call Sis (even if I’ve given up big cookies,
this is a childhood practice with which I cannot part). I speak for all of us, when I say thank you,
Sis and Uncle Rich, for the extreme care and gentle attention that you, along
with your boys, Adam, Andy, and Aaron, and your families gave them in their
final years. Aaron, thank you for
sleeping at the foot of her bed in her final weeks, and walking with her in such a tender way through the valley of the shadow of death. You have her softspoken, yet towering faith;
you have her heart of service. Thank
you.
Grandpa was a storyteller and grandma kept him honest. I can hear her saying, ‘Kilby, Kilby, now
you’re tellin’ that one.’ So in the four
years and four hours since Grandpa died, no telling what stories he’s been
getting away with. But Grandma’s there
again with him, probably saying again gladly ‘Kilby, Kilby.’ And I know he’s glad to hear it. She’s also
reunited with her parents, her five siblings that preceded her in death, and
her dear son, my Uncle Ronnie, who died unexpectedly sixteen years ago. What a joyful reunion.
These are legends that I’m talking about. Giants.
Heroes. Big things in small
packages. As we hear in Hebrews 11, it
is the faithful ‘who through faith conquered kingdoms,
administered justice, and gained what was promised; who shut the mouths of
lions, quenched the fury of the flames, and escaped the edge of
the sword; whose weakness was turned to strength; and who became powerful in
battle and routed foreign armies.’
As she often would testify in her small voice, ‘The Lord’s
just been so good to me.’
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