Annie's Song

Annie’s Song

Today I attended the memorial service for Annie.  Annie is the grandmother of a man I have worked with for the past 10 years.  He always spoke highly of his grandmother and when she passed—peacefully and of natural causes—he handled it as well as could be expected.  You see, after more than 104 years of life on this planet Annie told him she was ready to go home, so when the time came three days ago he was prepared.  That’s what grandmothers do: prepare their children and their children for whatever life happens to throw their way.

I listened intently as the pastor spoke of Annie’s life: Her commitment to God and church; her children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren; and her 60 years of teaching the same Sunday School class (she was still teaching when she was 100 years old!).  I met Annie’s son, a youngster of 80 who said he once told his mother he hoped he had her genes so he too could live to see 100.  Annie’s reply: ‘You couldn’t fit in my jeans!’  Something tells me I would have loved this lady.

I thought about Annie and what she’s seen in her lifetime.  Born in November of 1908, she was a mere three years old when the unsinkable Titanic met its watery grave.  She was 11 when prohibition in the United States was ratified.  She was 21 when Wall Street crashed, setting off the Great Depression.  She was 33 when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor, signaling the beginning of World War II.  She was 47 when the first McDonald’s opened.  She was 55 when John F. Kennedy was assassinated.  She was 64 during the Watergate scandal that led to the eventual resignation of Richard M. Nixon.  She was 72 when Ronald Reagan became President of the United States.  She was 87 at the time of the Centennial Olympic Park bombing.  She was 92 when the World Trade Center was destroyed.  And she was 104 when she made her presence known in heaven.

After the service Annie was going to be buried next to her husband.  After more than 50 years of being apart, they were going to be together once again. 

Midway through today’s service there was a problem with the church’s audio system, rendering the microphones inoperable.  A young man and a young woman were about to perform a song Annie specifically wanted sung at her service when the cassette player that would be playing the accompanying music suddenly became inoperable as well.  The duo had to sing the song acapella—without any musical accompaniment whatsoever.  You know, like in the good old days.

I couldn’t help but think Annie would have wanted it this way.