Mimi is Home

 Her raven black hair pinned neatly out of her face, she gave the children a stern look before following it with a quick smile.  Her almond shaped green eyes flashed as she continued the grammar lesson she had diligently prepared for her  students.  There would be no acting out in Mrs. Turner’s room.  Or bad grammar for that matter.  She had worked hard to get her education degree, and took both the job of teaching and the job of loving these little people to heart.  It had been no small challenge for her to go back to college while raising four children, supporting her traveling husband, and juggling a household.  Mrs. Turner’s dedication spilled over into her everyday interactions in the classroom.

And the Sunday school room.  With a smile on her face and a bible full of notes in her lap, this same lady whose expressions could make those children sit up straight also greeted a group of women weekly with warmth that kept them coming back.  Every week.  For decades.  Lucy, as she was known to them, taught her Sunday school class not for months or years, but for decades (40ish years between children’s Sunday school and her women’s class!).  Slipping away from all the busyness  that tugged at her each Saturday, she devoted hours to studying God’s word and saying yes to communicating His truth to those divinely placed in her circle of influence.  

And to those of us divinely placed in the circle of her family, she was our Mimi.  As she aged she grew even more beautiful- defying the bitterness of this world and leaning solely on the love of God. Oh, she drank her share from the cup of life’s sorrows, but she did not let circumstances define her.  Mimi held fast to the Truths that she poured into her soul each week from God’s Word, and she knew who she was.  And to whom she belonged.  And where her ultimate home would be.  To that end she lived.  In such a valiant way that the tears fill my eyes as I think of it now.  She was not famous or well known, but she faithfully and obediently did the next thing God placed in front of her.  She took each next step with her eyes fixed on Him.  She did not let herself be overcome by asking “Why?” but instead discovered how God would reveal Himself to her in each season.  And she loved.  Us.  With well worn knees and thoughts penned inside her favorite Guide Post cards, she reached across the miles with her words of encouragment and wisdom.  

When we were able to visit her home, her famous pound cake was almost always waiting in the kitchen.  In my life full of change and moving and different houses and towns and churches, there was only one thing that never changed all those years.  Mimi’s house.  She lived in that  same brick house  on Sterret Street for 68 years.  The sights, the smells, and the memories greeted me with a flood of nostalgia whenever I walked in the door.  Sleeping bags lined up across her living room floor full of precious cousins.  Doing flips on the world’s oldest swing set.  Listening to Papa tell me how to pick a ripe bell pepper from the massive garden.  Peeking in her sewing room where she was bedazzling anything from shoes to sweatshirts (she could sew like nobody’s business and even made all three of her girls beautiful wedding dresses!).  Sitting on the back porch at dinner with the other young cousins and wondering if we would ever “move up” to the kitchen table with the teens (we never dreamed of eating in the dining room with the adults!).  For about a decade now I said each goodbye to our Mimi with a lingering and a wondering if would be my last.  One more hug.  One more kiss on the cheeck.  And each time her tender voice trailing behind me as I walked out the back door, “Bye Darling.”

Her legacy is one of faithfulness.  Faithfulness to God, to family, to her calling, and to excellence in the little things.  I am sure as young Mrs. Turner stepped through the door of her classroom each morning, she never dreamed that one of those wiggly third grade students she was pouring into would be brought full circle back into her life at 99 1/2.  My throat tightened and the tears sprung loose when my Mom told me that one of Mimi’s recently hired care takers was a former student.  As God would have it, this precious soul was the one who was with our Mimi when she slipped into eterninty.  As my grandmother took her last breaths,  this lady whispered to herself that Mrs. Turner had helped her through the third grade, and now she got to help her as she took the step into the next life. 

I will never forget my Mimi.  And I will never forget that we have no idea how we are impacting those around us.  We never know how God will use a life we have touched to touch our own.  

PS I know Mimi would correct my fragments if she could see this so let’s keep my love of writing in incomplete sentences between us!

My Papa was there to greet her!

Makiah hugging Mimi... I just know this was Mimi's welcome home!

Sweet Makiah with Mimi at Makiah's last earthly family reunion.

Flashback...

The day before the school shut down in Georgia, the girls and I
had skipped town to visit Grandparents and made a stop at Mimi's.  
We had no idea what was coming and that this was the last visit! 

I was so impressed my 98 year old grandmother (at the time)
 had sparkly nail polish!  Mom told me later it was for Makiah.