Butterflies move with such ease. They float about without a seeming care in the world. An infinite number of colors display their way of communicating. It’s hard not to become entranced by the blues, greens, reds and purples that radiate from their minute scales. If I could picture my grammy and aunt in heaven at this moment, they would be the most vivacious, graceful butterflies, flittering about in no pain, no worry; glorifying their savior.
At 10 years old, my grandmother was my hero. She was not your typical crocheting, fabulous cook, can sew anything type of grandma. Grammy was more of the peanut-butter-on-toast with banana and call it a day type. Her wit, sense of humor and loving nature were unlike any I’ve ever experienced. I was blessed at six years old to have the chance to live with her and my grandpa in the house my mom grew up in. Looking back on my time there, I am flooded with memories. Memories of epic dates to Cracker Barrel, swimming from dawn till dusk, exploring the adjacent golf course with my brother and a huge Christmas gathering. Though those memories are dear to me, they are not my favorite. I prefer the endless amount of hugs, the constant snuggling, not leaving grammy’s side for hours on end, her bright pink lipstick, the smell of White Diamonds perfume radiating throughout the house, the pitter patter of their ever faithful dog Sonny…the list goes on and on.
Underneath the aching body and frail figure of my Aunt Lorna, lies a woman of God. A woman that soaks up everything she reads. A woman who wholeheartedly wants the best for others. Self-less in essence and a rare beauty, she never missed a chance to tell me how gorgeous I was. I had never believed it before but when she said it, I knew she truly meant it. The frustration she had with her worsening diabetic state was not out of angst with God but with all she wanted to be there for; my mom’s graduation, Christmas dinners, visiting long lost friends and watching her son grow-up. The last phone call I had with Aunt Lorna ended with her gentle voice declaring, “You and Philip are everything to me”. It brings tears to my eyes when reminiscing about these precious moments but the Lord placed them on my heart for a reason; to believe in the place where chains are broken free, pain is no more, the smell of perfume is abundant, we taste the peanut butter and we dance with our grammy’s and Aunt Lornas’. Heaven.
I’ll be honest. When I found out my team and I would be in Panama rather than Costa Rica for the month, I was bummed. My expectations were thrown out the window. I had pictured a month on the coast of the Pacific, surfing and hanging with the locals, drinking gallons of coffee as monkeys threw mangoes in our direction. Before we left Nicaragua, I decided to call my parents. When I mentioned the route change, I heard a sudden change in my mom’s voice. “Grammy had Aunt Lorna in Panama when her husband was stationed there”, she said. This immediately sparked my interest. I knew nothing about Panama but to have this connection made my heart flutter. Two women I loved dearly who embodied Jesus in such an empathetic way had many beginnings in this unbeknownst-to-me country. I felt their presence as soon as I stepped onto Panamanian soil.
Church was coming to a close this past Sunday when, for the first time, a butterfly graciously landed on my hand. I immediately thought of two powerful woman in my life; my grammy and Aunt Lorna. It’s orange streaked wings lightly fluttered as it cautiously roved about my finger staying with me for several minutes. During this time, I was fascinated with the connections I was making with this small creature and my beloved family members. It’s need for flight, it’s ability to hold on in an unfamiliar place, it’s fullness of life though living with the inevitable in sight…
My grammy and Aunt Lorna are now butterflies in heaven. Flying about with ease and cracking jokes with Jesus himself.
Next time you see a butterfly, try frowning. I triple dog dare you.
