She's gone. I'm having a hard time believing it, but it's true. I'll never get to hear her voice on the other end of the phone saying, "Courtney. It's Peggy.", as if her very distinct voice and caller ID hadn't already clued me in. I'll never get another birthday card in the mail--she hadn't missed one in 29 years. I'll never get to hug her frail little frame and wonder when I might see her again. And I'll never get to have her homemade chocolate pecan fudge again.
I'm sad about a lot of things. And those things are mostly for myself. Things I'm going to miss. Things I'll never have again. And there are a few things I'm sad about for her. I'm sad she never got to meet Rex or Emery. I'm sad she never got to take the cruise she told me she always wanted to go on. And I'm sad she died alone.
And while I will continue to be sad about those things, there are many things to celebrate. Peggy has had her "homegoing". She now sits at the feet of God. A God she has steadfastly praised and worshiped throughout her life. And I imagine there are a host of people she was glad to see again. While she loved all of us here--her 4 children, 7 grandchildren, and 10 great grandchildren--she had buried a number of other people who were equally important to her.
Something tells me she was happy to see her momma and daddy again, along with her two brothers and sister. I'm sure she took joy in being able to hold her infant daughter, Toyah Lou, who had only lived a day. And I imagine she hasn't left my grandfather's side. Even 15 years after his death she still cried when she talked about him. Yes, I'm sure she is in good company. I'm sure she is celebrating the time she had here, and her arrival to the Kingdom.
There are a lot of things about my grandmother that I see in myself. I've been known to give "the look", but I came by it honestly. I value my family, something she dearly treasured. And I worship a loving God, an example she clearly set. And I can't help but notice the mirror tosses back a reflection that looks much like the young lady I've seen in many black and white pictures throughout her house. I've told Rodney many times, "If you ever wonder what I might look like in 50 years, just take a look at Peggy."
For as set in her ways as she was, and as prudish as she could seem, she still had a sense of humor about herself. I loved that she could laugh at some of her quirks. I find a sense of humor, especially about oneself, is one of the finest and most endearing qualities a person can have. She and I shared many laughs over our "quirks".
One of the quirky things about our family was that we grandkids called her by her first name. Sometimes it was MaMa Peggy, but mostly it was just Peggy. As the oldest granddaughter, I've been credited with this. Apparently, I was always surrounded by adults who were calling her Peggy or mom. And I knew she wasn't my mom, so I just called her Peggy...actually Piggy, and then as I got older I converted to Peggy. She seemed to enjoy telling people that we called her by her first name. I honestly just couldn't imagine calling her anything else. Even when I hear of other people named Peggy, I always think it sounds like a name you're supposed to call your grandma...not a name you actually use to name a person.
One of the things I've always treasured about Peggy was her ability to remember every detail about every thing that ever happened in her life. I often found myself on the phone with her asking about different things from our family's past. She could recall things like they had happened yesterday. And you could see in her eyes as she would tell the story that she was almost reliving it herself. She had knack for remembering things, remembering events, and remembering people.
Peggy loved family. And you didn't have to be blood to be family. Whether one joined our family through adoption, marriage or just association, Peggy loved them as if they came straight out of the bloodline. No one member was less important than the other. Everyone got the same amount on their birthday check. Everyone got an equal number of pictures taken of them. Everyone got the occasional phone call so she could see how things were going with you, and then fill you in on what everyone else in the family was doing. She was our own personal social network...a role she took very seriously.
Peggy was a strong woman. I often think of how differently our lives have been. I live in the comfort of the suburbs, in a 4 bedroom house, complete with a Scottish Terrier, 3 healthy kids, and a picket fence. And still there are days I cry. She raised four kids and buried one, on a cotton farmer's income, with few luxuries, and a slew of daily chores I wouldn't even consider doing these days. I remember her telling me one time that she could remember washing clothes by hand and dreaming that they might one day invent a machine that would do it for you. Then she laughed and said, "And they did, but I STILL hate doing laundry." Me too, Peggy Rose, me too.
In recent years, as we grandkids started providing her great grandkids, you could see a trend developing. We were finding ways to honor her with the greatest gift we had to offer--our children. She had two great grandsons who were given names of her own sons--Kyle Scott and Clinton Robert. She had two great grandsons who were given surnames from her family--Rex Davis and Joshua Cross. Heidi Sage was induced on her birthday of March 26. And her latest namesake, Emery Rose, was named after her and her father, Sidney Emory Cross. Peggy loved that we were using so many names that honored her and her family. It meant the world to her. I'm glad that was something we were all able to give her.
The last time I talked to Peggy at length was a few days before Rex was born. We talked about how Canyon and Tyson (two other new great grandbabies) had made their arrivals. And we discussed how soon Rex and Emery would be here. She was so excited about all the new babies. I think Canyon was the only one she got to meet, but I hope God has given her a window seat where she can look down and see all these new babies.
After I had Clinton, Peggy came and stayed with us for several days. She spent most of her time here just loving on him. Those are several days I'll treasure forever. We sat and talked about when my dad was a baby. We talked about when I was a baby. She gave me what motherly advice she felt was worth passing on. In recent years, she had been having trouble with her back and hadn't gotten to visit since Clinton's birth. But when I talked to her a couple of weeks ago, she was feeling great and we had discussed her coming up here in the spring...possibly for her and Heidi Sage to have a birthday party together. I was quite excited about the possibility. I am beyond saddened by the reality.
I think part of the reason I'm still reeling is because of the suddenness of her death. Just out of the blue. No illness. No accident. Just sudden death.
We often joked about how many funerals Peggy went to. Every time you talked to her, she would fill you in on at least one funeral she had been to. We would joke with her, "You need to get some younger friends so you don't have to go to so many funerals." And I guess in my heart, I never really believed hers would come...something like, "Always the bridesmaid, never the bride." Something like that.
76 suddenly feels young. She seemed to have so much life left in her. I hear of so many people living through their 80's and into their 90's...and I always thought she would be one of those. I wish she could have been one of those.
In the end, I know she's in a better place. I know she's where she wanted to be. She's no longer living alone surrounded by a house full of things she has saved from all the people she loved who went before her. She's no longer wondering what friend might go meet her for dinner so she won't have to whip up a Schwann's dinner from her freezer. She's no longer fretting over the way our family continues to get more and more miles between them. No...she's in heaven...and I look forward to seeing her there someday.
I love you, Peggy Rose.
With tears,
