As last night my thoughts were on pure and holy worship, this morning I thought about this same idea in a different context. Dad called this morning to say that Beppe (my grandmother) had passed away. Physically she has been slipping away from us for the past several months. As I visited with her this summer, I prayed that she would soon experience eternal peace. Well, this prayer has been answered. I like to think that after being restrained in a wheel chair for the past month and lying in bed for the past two weeks, Beppe is enjoying and dancing in eternal glory. It makes me smile to think that she is experiencing a peace unlike anything she would have felt here on earth.
And so I turn to think about who Beppe was. I feel privilege to be a grandchild, because I think they have the best memories. It’s natural for grandparents to spoil their grandchildren and to share many good times together. As I sit for just a short time I can think of many. Here is what I think of when I reflect on who Beppe was to me:
1. She was always there. Having grandparents live next door was an experience that only draws up good memories. Although I don’t remember this, I am told that if mom was out getting groceries Beppe would get me up from my nap, give me a snack, and put me on the pot. She was quiet, but she was there for every birthday, graduation, and celebration. She was there for every coffee time our family shared around the picnic table outside or the kitchen table in the winter.
2. She tolerated my siblings and I. She loved to be an observer taking things in from the sideline. She was our fan, always accepting the crazy things we did or said. She was a proper lady, but took in our improperness with a smile or a smirk, but rarely gave a stern look of disapproval. She tolerated the commotions we made, elbows on the table, and licking out the last bit of dessert out of our plates. She tolerated our teasing and often just laughed when we would beg her to go swimming with us or when we named her bird Lester.
3. Beppe was a woman of adventures. She is my role model for not letting her age get in the way of trying something new. It didn’t matter if it took a little extra effort or if the following day she would be sore or tired. Her determined spirit allowed her to experience a lot of fun adventures. She always said, “Well if that is what you are doing than I will do it too.” With this philosophy in life, she joined us one Sunday night for “Church in the John” at McMaster University. This was a youth lead worship service in a downstairs bar, transformed into church for a couple of hours. Her only comment afterwards was that she could feel the music pounding in her heart. Another time, when she was well into her 80’s, she decided she needed to ride in the combine with Leonard. With a little push from behind she was up and enjoyed a couple rounds around the field. Where the action was, Beppe was sure to be close by to see. If we were at the beach for family day, she wasn’t one to sit under the tree like an ‘old lady’, she was getting her feet into the sand no matter how much effort it took with her cane in one hand and her handkerchief in the other. Speaking of ‘old lady’, Beppe never claimed to be one. She would go out to visit the old ladies at Parkview Meadows, but she never actually considered herself one of them. I like that concept; I might adopt it to my own life.
4. She was a good listener. She loved to hear about the adventures of my travels to different places. She would want to see all the pictures and hear about each one. Even after she began loosing her eyesight, she wanted to see the pictures. Sometimes she put them upside down, but it didn’t matter she wanted to hear about it. In a way, I think she lived vicariously through our travels.
5. In all honesty, Beppe was a perfectionist. Faye, Sara, and I owe a lot of our knitting and crochet projects to Beppe’s handiwork. If we would ask for help, she would help all right. Within 2 seconds our first 4 hours of work on a project would be off the needles. But not 5-10 minutes later the whole thing would be back in place in perfect order. I’m not sure how much we learned from that experience, but we certainly took pride in her skills. One of my favorite memories is of Beppe sitting out in the sun on a summer afternoon. I would come over and talk with her and she would be looking right at me all the while her hands were still in motion making her famous wooly socks.
Every time I have left home to return to school, British Columbia, or Nicaragua I would sit and talk with Beppe and say good bye until the next time we would meet. She would often have tears coming down her cheeks, not because she didn’t want me to go, but probably more because my presence would be missed. Today, Beppe, you have left us and our tears are falling, not because we didn’t want you to go, but because your presence will be missed. We are rejoicing with you that you are now worshiping in eternal glory.
Of course I was game to go to Rio Blanco since it was in the mountains. We took Saturday to hike up Cerro (mountain) Musun. Because it is the rainy season we encountered a lot of mud along the way. 
After trooping up the mountain and through the 'junglie' forest we came to this beautiful waterfall. I felt for a minute like we were in some National Geographic magazine. It was a beautiful site.
This is the crew that went on this adventure. Everyone seems more interested in the calves than looking at the camera.
The teachers also do a dance for the program which is always a hit with the parents and students alike. Here are my roommates and I with our traditional dresses. Yes, I know the bouquet of flowers on my head seems a little ridiculous, but it seems to be the Nicaraguan way so I just went with it for a couple of hours.
