In the well-known poem, “Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep,” we find the words:
"I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain."
Almost every day, I am reminded that Joyce is still with me. I see her fountain in the backyard, her favorite chair still sits in the den, I walk by the Life Center where she spent many good days, and every Sunday I can see her sitting in church. . . she is with me and always will be.
My grandmother died in 1983. It was a Sunday morning. There were two or three ladies that my grandmother would pick up on the way to church. She would always call them to make sure they planned to go. When they didn’t get her call, they called my mother who went to my grandmother’s house and found her. She had died in her sleep—a wonderful way to go.
My mother wisely decided not to call me before our church service started. She waited until she knew the worship service was underway and then called the church office at Roxboro Baptist Church. I remember hearing the telephone and thinking that it was odd for someone to call on a Sunday morning. After church, someone handed me a note to call my mother.
That was 43 years ago, but I can still feel my grandmother’s presence at times. I remember different things from her house. I inherited her marble clock that sits on my mantle. I have her china cabinet in my dining room.
My grandmother had a reproduction of a popular painting in her bedroom. It was a Madonna and Child—which is strange considering she was an old-school Baptist. It is a painting by the Italian artist, Roberto Ferruzzi, named “The Madonnina” or commonly called, “The Madonna of the Streets.” My guess is that my grandmother purchased this painting on one of her trips to Italy.
I don’t know what happened to this painting, but I vividly remember it in her bedroom. It would be the painting she would see first thing every morning and the last thing she would see at night.
Seven years ago, Joyce and I were on Sabbatical and traveled to the beautiful city of Salzburg in Austria. We took the train from Munich to Salzburg. The scenery is breathtaking. Everything about this city was simply beautiful.
I had been thinking about my grandmother because one of her favorite movies was, “The Sound of Music.” She took me as a child to see it. She loved Julie Andrews. We took a delightful “Sound of Music” tour in Salzburg that my grandmother would have loved.
I made arrangements to stay at a small hotel away from the city center. When I told the taxi driver where we were going, he said: “That is a lovely place close to the mountains.”
The Bloberger Hof is like something out of a movie. It is a Swiss Chalet house run by a wonderful Austrian family with small children along with the grandparents. You felt like you were staying in a home rather than a hotel.
When we walked into our spacious room we immediately walked out to the balcony with the flower baskets in this idyllic home. From our balcony we had a fantastic view of the majestic mountains—some still had snow—and a distant view of the snowcapped Alps. We marveled at the scene before us! Those hills were truly alive!
Joyce walked back into the room while I lingered on the balcony. I was mesmerized by the overwhelming beauty. I thought about my grandmother who visited Salzburg back in the 1960s. No wonder she loved this place, I thought.
Then I walked back into our wonderful suite and for the first time, saw a beautiful painting on the wall. I stopped. I did a double-take. I could not believe what I was seeing!
It was a copy of Roberto Ferruzzi’s “Madonnia;” the same painting that my grandmother had in her bedroom.
I called Joyce and had her look at the painting. I told her about that same painting being in my grandmother’s bedroom. We both stood and stared, not knowing what to say.
Then, for some reason, I looked at my watch. The date was May 22, 2019. May 22.
I froze. A chill went down my spine. It was May 22, 1983 when my grandmother died.
Yes, she will always be with me.
