“For we know that when this earthly tent we live in is taken down—when we die and leave these bodies—we will have a home in heaven, an eternal body made for us by God himself and not by human hands” (2 Corinthians 5:1 NLT).
When I first started dating Robin, I had to date the whole family. Every weekend was scheduled by their family gospel group, the Happy Hearts. If I wanted to go out on Saturday night with Robin, I had to get on the Happy Heart bus and ride to their next concert date.
While being a “roadie” for the Happy Hearts wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I was dating my wife to be, it was a great way to get to know her family, especially her mom, Christine Conner.
Robin’s dad mostly picked on me. “Did you get that one College Boy?” He’d ask, after telling another corny joke. Eyeballing me in the huge overhead mirror with a wry, half-smile, while gripping the oversize Greyhound steering wheel with both hands, he’d wait to see if I laughed.
But Mrs. Conner asked serious questions, about me and about what I believed. Apparently, no one ever told her that religion and politics were touchy topics for polite conversation because she would ask me a question and then debate me if we differed in any way.
I never minded. I come from a family that discusses everything. I had strong opinions and so did Mrs. Conner. We both shared our views and a growing respect grew between us.
When Robin and I married and had children, they called Mrs. Conner, “Nana.” So, I started calling her Nana too.
When we would visit, Nana always made special foods for me.
“Gary, did you see that cheesecake in the fridge? I made that just for you!” She’d say, while rushing around her kitchen preparing for dinner.
“Thanks Nana. It looks great.” I’d reply, knowing that cooking was her way of showing love.
“After dinner, I want to show you a new book I got on Revelation.” She’d say. She loved to discuss the Bible, especially books on the end times.
After I became a pastor, she wanted my weekly sermon tapes. We mailed her a tape every week for years. She would write and tell me what she thought of my latest sermon. She even started giving them out to her friends after she listened.
“Why don’t you move back to Virginia?” She’d ask. “You could be my pastor.” She would say, while squeezing my hand.
This past year, she hasn’t been able to listen to my sermons. Her health declined rapidly after Robin’s father passed away. But she still wanted me to do my job.
“Can I pray for you Nana?” I asked, the last time I was with her.
“Yes.” She mouthed through the oxygen mask, while raising up in her hospital bed to grab my hands in hers.
As I prayed, she murmured “Amen” and “Yes” to every sentence, punctuating my prayer with her affirmations of faith.
“I wish I had you in my amen corner at church.” I said.
She nodded weakly and mouthed, “Me too.”
As Robin leaned over to hug her, they played the “I love you more” game. Then she looked into Robin’s eyes and said, “I’ll see you in heaven, honey.”
She was ready. And so, early this past Tuesday morning, Christine Conner went to be with the Lord.
We’ll see you soon Nana. Be looking for us. We’ll have great things to discuss.
We love you all and are praying for you.
Anthony and Jamie
I feel your lose. I too just lost a dear person that recently entered my life. When death takes someone from us we are so selfish.A song recently opened my eyes to this. Toby Keith “I’m Crying for Me”. That is so true. Be happy for the one that has passed on to be in Heaven. Rejoice, be happy for they are in a better place and looking down on us. Each night we Tell Helen, his mom to save a place for us. We’ll be joining her. Richard and I do here on earth now to try to assure we will see her again. I miss my new found friend. I feel I was cheated just knowing her for such a short time. Tuesday’s aren’t the same anymore for me. That is the day I’d do her hair then go and have lunch and Christmas shop or just do something together.Now I don’t have her to teach me about Richard or her to answer questions I have. We still talk tho every night I go out side, look up at the sky and tell her good night, I love you, you are missed.