A Grandmother's Final Graduation Gift
The time for graduations is here. For most of us that means grabbing a card, sticking in some cash and calling it good. But what would you do if you knew this was the last gift you would give? If the recipient was a child or grandchild, what would you choose? Money? An heirloom piece? A trip?
When her health was failing, a month before she died, my mom chose none of those things.
"I want to work on graduation gifts for Evan and Elise," Mom declared one morning in 2014. "I want you to go to the bank today and get out cash for each of them."
"Today?" I questioned, still in my jammies and longing for a cup of Earl Grey.
"Yes."
Even though a stroke had made writing difficult, I knew Mom still kept a running to-do list in her head. She had mentioned several times her desire to get gifts for her two grandchildren who would be the last of thirteen grandchildren to graduate in 2015. When I returned from the bank, Mom had two copies of the Dr Seuss book, Oh The Places You'll Go, laid out on the kitchen table.
I sat down next to Mom.
One of my earliest memories as a young girl was sitting beside Mom and sounding out words to the Dr Seuss book, Green Eggs and Ham.
I had finger-traced the new words.
B-O-X. F-O-X.
Would you eat them in a box? Would you eat them with a fox?
I had relied on Mom to teach me the mysteries of unknown words. Now, because of her health issues, she depended on me to do the same. The woman who had made her living as a teacher with words, had lost her ability to spell.
Before my parents were diagnosed with cancer, they made a point to be at all of the grandchildren's graduations. At each graduation, my parents had presented the graduate with a copy of Oh the Places You’ll Go by Dr Seuss. As teachers, the book was their way of encouraging a continual love of reading after high school, but more than that. On each of the pages of each of the books, my parents penned their favorite Bible verses, quotes and personal notes for their granddaughters and grandsons.
"What would you like on this page?" I asked as I opened up one of the two remaining books.
"I can do all things through Him who strengthens me," Mom said. She looked down at a selection of scriptures she had chosen for the task. "And on the next page I want this." She pointed to a verse in Jeremiah, "'And I will listen to you and you will seek me and find me, when you search for me with all your heart and I will be found by you,' declares the Lord."
As I inscribed the words Mom requested, I couldn't help but enjoy the book's whimsical illustrations and rhyming phrases. Near the end of the book, Dr Seuss had written,
And when you’re alone, there’s a very good chance
You’ll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
That can scare you so much you won’t want to go on.
BUT ON YOU WILL GO
Though the weather be foul
And you will go
Though your enemies prowl…..And will you succeed?
Yes! You will indeed!
98 and ¾ percent guaranteed! (KID, You will move mountains!)
What do you do when you experience things that can scare you right out of your pants? Does it effect the choice of your final gift? What lasting legacy do you hope to leave when you are gone?
When faced with her own weather-fowl-enemies-prowl circumstances, my mom chose to leave the gift of words.
The imaginative words of Dr. Seuss.
The lasting words from a faithful God.
The loving words of a grandmother.
Words larger than fear. Words larger than mountains. Words to depend upon in the places her grandchildren would go after graduation.
On the cover page, Mom had me write a spiritual blessing: Your world needs you. You bring something that nobody else has. I don’t know everything about who you are going to be or what you are going to do, but you are loved; you are a blessing to your family, and you are a life-giver in the world.
Then Mom took each book from me. The woman who once typed more than 60 words a minute on a manual typewriter with no mistakes, now traced out the words she wanted to write with her finger, hoping to kickstart her brain into remembering the mystery of written words.
E-L-I-S-E.
E-V-A-N.
She picked up a pen and carefully and slowly wrote, God bless you, Evan. God bless you, Elise. All my love, Gma
Sometimes the giving of the words is as important as the words themselves.
Today,
in the places you go,
I pray you find opportunity to leave the gift of words,
especially to those who are scared out of their pants.
And if that someone is you,
I pray someone will give you the gift of words
and I pray you will have the chance to be a life-giver to your world.