;; The Spoken Accolade
(print u"80 years. 80 years is a long time. A lifetime. A lifetime has passed. A lifetime has passed before our eyes. A lifetime has passed before our eyes and impacted our hearts. Long live the matriarch. To my mothers mother. The one who first taught me to fold my hands and pray, To have manners and be kind in every way, To defend myself, to have boundaries, the one God used to draw me back when I would stray, The one who always valued what I had to say as an inquisitive child hovering around you in your rocking chair or bed. Inseparable. My mother\u{2019}s mother. Who acted as though she were mine. I wish I could hug you one more time. Tell you I love you one more time. Serve you. Listen to you. Hear your laugh. See you with your feet kicked up. Hear your voice when the phone picks up. Vocal inflections resound like sunshine in my soul. You were always so happy to hear from family. You never desired wealth in the form of money, though you loved surprise gifts of sweet candy and cash. But you found treasure in something that would last. You found it in us. Your brother, your sisters. Every son and daughter. Every nephew and niece. Every cousin. Every grandchild and great-grandchild. You looked at us as your inheritance in this life. And you poured years of love, years of patience, years of prayers, years of work into us. Now, like Abraham in the Bible, your seeds have touched the globe. From soccer stars to entrepreneurs, from evangelists to healthcare workers, from handymen to homemakers, or just people trying to be better than they were yesterday. Behold and look at the fruit of your womb from the spectacular pearly balconies of your Heavenly residence. We breathe for you. We see for you. From dust, we came and so shall return. God has need for you. I wish for God to see you and spoil you. May your home in Heaven be fully furnished how you like. And even though I can not bring you groceries again, at least in Heaven there is neither pain, sorrow nor night. For God is your Light. Streets of gold. Pearly gates. Youth restored. Smile on your face. Now, as we miss you for the rest of our earthly lives, we say live Grammy. Live on. Live on. Live on in eternal splendor. Enjoy your eternal rest. Worship the Lord your God through the ages. You are now part of the great cloud of witnesses watching over us. Rooting for us. May God help our hearts adjust to the gravity of our newfound reality and grant our hearts peace as we grieve for a time. Peace because it is well. As we look at photographs and tell stories and reminisce, you are carried in our hearts perpetually for the rest of our days. Thank you. Thank you for your love. Thank you for your kindness. Thank you for always being there for us. Thank you for helping us out no matter what. Thank you for teaching us. Thank you. We can never repay you. But we promise to be the best that we can be and honor your beloved memory. Because after it is all said and done, that is all we will be. We love you beyond words and if we choose Jesus, we shall see you again. Because who you are, your very essence, cannot be contained by a casket or covered in an obituary. You are beyond burying. You are alive with the Savior of my soul, the Light of the World, the Lamb of God, and I worship Him for giving us you. My grandmother. To my Grammy whom I adore. Your love is my award. You are a one of one. I love you. I love you. Forever and always I love you. I love you. I love you. Forever and always I love you. I love you. I love you. Forever and always. I love you.")
;; Long live the Matriach. I love you. Forever.