Grass huts and coconuts

I haven’t told too many people about this, but I figure that it rolls with the topic of my late Aunt Willie Doll (I love that name). My grandmother, Ruby Thomas (my dad’s mom) died of cancer in the 70s. Obviously, I never met her and she never met me. But her sister, Mable, lived until last year. Dad has always spoken highly of his mom, and I can tell is upset that none of his three sons ever got to know her. But I feel as if I slowly am.

As soon as I found out that Aunt Mable had died, I went straight into the Abbey Church to pray a Rosary for her. I was close to Aunt Mable and am very close to her daughter, who is like a sister to my dad. So I was choked up and upset over her death. I remember asking Grandma Ruby (as I have come to call her), “if you are in heaven, please take care of your sister Mable.” As soon as I had asked that, I suddenly felt a calm come over me, as if someone had assured me that everything would be OK. I have taken this to mean that Grandma Ruby is in heaven, and she is praying for us.

So now I can say that I have two wonderful women in heaven praying for me! Who am I do deserve such a thing? Two women, one I hardly knew and the other I never knew, are in the actual presence of God pleading for me.

Why does death always have to be an end? I see it as a new beginning. I see it as a chance for us still on earth to make up for time missed out on. So I didn’t get a chance, or take advantage of a chance, to get to know these two wonderful women. Why not pray for them, then? Or why not ask them to pray for me, and thank them for it? Why not offer Masses in their honor? What better way could you say thank you? After all, if it wasn’t for their positive influence on my parents, would I be typing this right now?

Ruby Thomas, pray for us!!

Willie Doll Thomas, pray for us!!