Almost Heaven

As a child I was blessed to have both sets of grandparents living just a short distance from our family home. I remember many birthdays spent in their backyard, anxiously anticipating Grandma Carrie's home made angel food cake with her drizzled orange cream cheese frosting, and Grandma Mabel's sour cream chocolate with milk chocolate shavings! Whoa baby--just thinking about them makes me drool!

My Grandpa Jack would often take my sisters, brother, and I, on a birthday wheel barrow ride across their wide breadth of yard, dumping us out each time onto fresh-cut grass, as we begged "just one more time!" My grandma Mabel's flower garden was a work of art; a Monet painting exploding with colossal color. I used to pretend I was Alice in Wonderland and plop myself down on the ornate iron bench that rested along the small stone pathway to one side of the brillant blooms.

Grandma Mabel had an identical twin, and when Aunt Maudie came to visit, they would keep us howling, telling of the times they switched places in school and took tests for one another, as Grandma excelled in English, while Maudie was a whiz in math!

My Grandma Carrie and Grandpa Harlan had an extensive vegetable garden on their property, and I used to watch Grandma snap the tips off the green beans with amazing speed, tossing them into her big iron pot filled with water, while we ate them by the fistful! She was a captivating story-teller, and on summer nights, we'd sit next to her on the over-stuffed sofa, listening to her tell us of her childhood years spent on the farm in Nebraska, spilling out favorite Bible verses, leaving lasting imprints on our hearts

My mind is flooded with memories of my grandmas....both women of commanding character, strength, and unwavering faith.

But my most beloved memory is of Christmas Eves when mom would prepare a scrumptious feast, as we celebrated with my paternal grandparents and relatives on my dad's side of the family. After all had left, we would don our new pajamas, grab our pillows and blankets, and bound into the back of our family station wagon headed for Grandma Mabel and Grandpa Jack's house! Their home was an enchanting, magical place. Grandma's ability to make everything special was her gift to all of us. Dad would carry our slumbering bodies into their guest room, placing my older sister and I in the graceful four poster bed. Laying sheltered under Grandma's lush covers and white satin spread, I was instantly at home. We'd awaken early Christmas morning to the aroma of freshly baked cinnamon rolls, and tiptoe like mice down the extensive hallway to the living room - to peek at presents waiting under the tall spruce, with it's shining globes and glistening tinsel.

A childhood friend once asked me what I thought heaven would be like. I remember telling her: "It's like falling asleep on Christmas Eve, and when you wake up Christmas morning, you're in your Grandma's house surrounded by all the people you love the very most."