Sunday Reminders

Most Sundays, I find myself reminded of my grandparents.
It might be a song that sounds to me like something you'd sing in a small country church.Today's hymn was "Grace Greater Than All Our Sin."  A guitar and a piano and 80-some voices and I can see my Grandma Pearl.  She loves her gospel music.

It could be the elderly man I see walking into the Tractor Supply store during the service.  He walks slowly, wears those familiar black shoes, and wears a hat. And I think of my Papa.  When I saw him today I fought my tears.

There's one lady at church who carries her purse just like my Grandma Lucy, in the crook of her arm.  I can see Grandma getting her purse from the same place she's put it ever since I can remember, making sure big things like the TV are unplugged, and heading out the door.

And today especially it's Papa Crouse, who didn't know his great-grandchildren but who would be so pleased and proud to know that his only grandson is in fact keeping the family name going. Not one great-grandson but three!  The third will be here in July to join his two brothers and his sister.  More tears.

For some reason I found myself thinking of a wedding picture we have with our grandparents.  I am somewhat sobered by it and thankful at the same time.  They have left us a fountain of memories just in their living.  I don't recall many bells and whistles.  I do remember them going about their lives quietly and purposefully.  And from just that, I think all us grandkids gained a fortune.