Question numero uno: What does beauty mean to me?
He carefully slipped the furry pink socks over her swollen feet. I had never seen her wear pink. In fact, she only ever wore black, her style or lack of style, was to drape layers of black,not too gaudy, not too gothic, but it was her signature look, black clothes, big blonde or red hair, and lots of the newest greatest makeup carefully applied. So the pink made me smile to myself hearing her voice probably cuss at him for getting her pink socks and more than that, they were fuzzy. She wasn't fuzzy. His sole purpose was to make her comfortable. He then leaned over and grabbed the lemon flavor songy swab and gently rubbed it over her lips and into her mouth moistening it. When she made a disgusted look he smiled and said "I know, but its the only flavor they have". He then gently leaned over her raised bed and gave her a soft kiss on her forehead. I believe her eyes filled with tears, though he insists they were jut watery, but I think she was overwhelmed with love and thankfulness.
He carefully slipped the furry pink socks over her swollen feet. I had never seen her wear pink. In fact, she only ever wore black, her style or lack of style, was to drape layers of black,not too gaudy, not too gothic, but it was her signature look, black clothes, big blonde or red hair, and lots of the newest greatest makeup carefully applied. So the pink made me smile to myself hearing her voice probably cuss at him for getting her pink socks and more than that, they were fuzzy. She wasn't fuzzy. His sole purpose was to make her comfortable. He then leaned over and grabbed the lemon flavor songy swab and gently rubbed it over her lips and into her mouth moistening it. When she made a disgusted look he smiled and said "I know, but its the only flavor they have". He then gently leaned over her raised bed and gave her a soft kiss on her forehead. I believe her eyes filled with tears, though he insists they were jut watery, but I think she was overwhelmed with love and thankfulness.
For four years this was my grandfather's life. For four years he drove across town sometimes two or three times a day, sometimes staying the whole day to take care of my grandma who was in a semi-coma state after a bout with a medication she was allergic to. He sat by her side giving her the Lakers play by play, sometimes he would get to the nursing home at 9:00 at night after my softball game to list off my stats to her and tell her how proud she would be of me and then tuck her in whispering goodnight, he was sure to tll the nurses how to make her more comfortable and would slip them some treats ensuring she was on top of their care list, he befriended the other husbands going through almost the same thing, he carefully analyzed her chart, tenderly held her hand, would brush her hair, and tell her how beautiful she was and how much he loved her. Nothing in return.
His life for four years was lived solely for the good of another and that is beautiful. Beauty is where we can see God's kingdom breaking through.
This is my grandma.
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