In the midst of the wedding week, on a Wednesday, my dear, dear friend “Aunt” Ronnie died. She was 94 years old and completely ready to go to be with God. She said to the nurses, “I don’t know why it’s taking so long.”
For the past year she had been up and down with health issues. During the down times she would often say, “I just keep asking God to take me. I don’t know why I’m still here.” She was lonely for her Frank who died in October 3 years ago. I don’t think she ever fully got over losing her first husband, Byron, back in the early ’60s. I had held on to hope that Ronnie (Rowena) would have a second wind and be able to enjoy getting out and about after Frank’s passing. Her health did perk up some at first — I think because they got all the smoke from his old stogies out of the house. She had begun having bouts of pneumonia in the years before Frank died. And in the end that is what caused her death.
We attended her funeral on Sunday, after David’s wedding on Saturday.
The next Wednesday, Gerri Deeter Mitchell passed away. She was 95 years old and had been as vibrant and vivacious as can be. She always sat in front of me in church, often joined by her granddaughter and great granddaughter. She absolutely lit up when they breezed in and sat beside her. The tall, gorgeous granddaughter had to bend way down to hug her tiny gramma, but as she said in her eulogy, “Even though Gram was only 4 feet 10 inches tall, I never stopped looking up to her.
I know both of those sweet ladies are hanging out with special loved ones in heaven and basking in the presence of Jesus. But I miss them.