"Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, Who is in you, Whom you have received from God? ... So use every part of your body to give glory back to God..." 1 Corinthians 6:19-20

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

A Hero never Dies

7 years now. It pains me to think of my grandma being gone. She was my HERO.

Mabel Murdock weighed in at less than 100 lbs and under 5 feet tall. Hero's don't have to be big and strong, gruff or fierce looking.
This woman raised 4 alcoholic children and was married to one also. She was my rock. She did the best she could. Yes, she made mistakes, we all do.
She loved the lord and she honestly loved her children with everything.

What a Hero looks like to me:
My Grandma was fierce. She grew up on a farm and was a tough as nails. It was nothing for her to still scare me in her 90's with her Irish temper.
My grandma would come into our trailer when mass chaos was breaking loose. Chaos was just aan average day. This little lady would catch me screaming and crying at mother. My mom would be flipping out at me, throwing things and telling me to pack my bags if I didn't like it. She would be two sheets to the wind. You can not reason with drunkenness. Only at 15, I didn't know that. Grandma would lift up her cane, "GET A HOLD of YOURSELF!" She would corral me with her cane back to my bedroom. "ANITA, SHAME on YOU, STOP it RIGHT NOW, DO YOU HEAR ME." She looked like she would wap me anytime with her cane. I was so scared of her I would just start hyperventilating. I couldn't breath. My body couldn't catch air. "LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT me ANITA." I could hardly bring my eyes up to her hazel gleaming eyes in shame for my behavior.

My mother was gone and my Grandma was all I had. And I didn't take that for granted. I visited her every week. I took her shopping at Aldi's and would pick up her house. I would permed, cut and roller set her hair every week. She loved me. One day she even apologized to me. "Anita, I am sorry." She said as I was putting rollers in her hair. "I never gave your father a chance, He really loved your mom, he was a good man to her." She continued. "But back then, you didn't like Mexicans, it wasn't right, but that's how it was, I am sorry."

She loved the Lord. I have her little note pads with her prayers and verses on it.
She collected "LOVE IS.... and never threw out a plastic butter container!
She could walk in the middle of 4 alcoholic children brawling without any fear. I would be so scared for her.

And she would cry. Each child, had his special place in her heart. She would go through each of them and tell me about all their special traits. Her eyes would tear up as she struggled with out living them. "Anita, I have climbed up that hill and I am on my way down."
 We always said "Grandma You are going to out live us all.."

I didn't want my grandma to ever die. She reminded me of who I wanted to be. I wanted to be Strong like her. I wanted to love the Lord the way she did. I wanted to be sassy and spry. I wanted to be doing my exercises till I was almost 100 years old. I wanted to have great stories like she did, traveling all over and afraid of nothing.

I didn't want to be alone with out her. She was the last of a legacy.
Hero's are hard to come by these days. Hero's live in our hearts forever. They may be gone but their greatness goes on forever.

Who is your Hero? Have you told your Hero how much they mean to you lately?


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