Refuge

My grandmother Olive Dale, for whom our daughter Olive is named, passed away three years ago this month. She was such an incredible woman and is certainly part of the cloud of witnesses I rely on to cheer me through my days on this side of the veil. She was a strong, strong woman. Among other things, I admire her for her strength, integrity, wisdom, and work ethic. She went to college well before it was a reasonable thing for women to do. She hopped on a bus in small town West Virginia -- and headed to Detroit to support the war effort during WWII. She taught in a one room schoolhouse. The list goes on an on. My favorite thing about my Grandma Dale, however, was her feisty personality. Let me just make my point: I love my Grandma because she taught me how to cuss. She was a good Christian woman - don't get me wrong - but she also knew how to place a well timed "jack ass" to get the maximum effect. What a great phrase. You can argue that it is Biblical if you feel the need to rationalize your exclamations --- or you can just run with it. Grandma understood timing -- so her "jack ass" came immediately after a brief pause -- and was followed by a nod, and a slight curl in her lip that let you know she meant business.

We never argued with Grandma about the merits of the person who had received the title. Afterall, Grandma lived well into her nineties and had surely cultivated the ability to tell a jack ass from a regular jack. Who was I to argue with age and wisdom? Besides, even in my minimal thirty year experience with jack asses - I had come to recognize that Grandma was nearly always correct in her summation and ensuing proclamation.

Grandma died three years ago with incredible grace. She had given away most of what she owned, lived sparingly (as she had her whole life), celebrated everyone else's accomplishments, and looked forward to a visit from most anybody. Oh - and she also cleaned up during nursing home Bingo games. She hadn't been a fan of Bingo until she realized that most of the residents, though younger, didn't have their "wits about them" and she could take them at Bingo. She was mighty proud of her nickle and dime Bingo winnings that sat in a cup in her dresser. In her final days we all gathered around her and sang hymn after hymn - and told story after story. She had scripture and verse painted on her heart -- and loved to sing praises even as other words or memories failed her. She was a believer -- not in a righteous way based on tradition and a sense of doing what is "right" -- but in the relationship with a living God kind of way. She was ready to go "home" and found her way there one day in April.

My Mom & Dad have spent the years since that time designing and building a cabin in West Virginia in her honor. Grandma loved family time -- as does my family -- and a place where we can all be together in the sweet and fragrant hills of West Virginia is the best tribute to Grandma Dale. "Olive's Lodge" has recently moved from being a vision - to a reality. My dad, mom, and brothers have spent countless hours building this beautiful retreat -- refuge -- for all of us to escape from the rest of the world and find some peace and new energy by being with people we love.

Each of us has a room that we are responsible for preparing for our family. My recent trip home afforded me the time to get our room together. Tommy wasn't able to take time off from work this time, so I took pictures to show him our little space in the hills. While Grandma is always on my heart, she seems especially present there - perhaps that is because I see so much of her in my mother and siblings --- especially considering how much they cuss...