Recently, I've been to several funerals. I actually just got back from a trip to West Virginia, where we said goodbye to the lady who saved my grandfather's life.
I went to the funeral home with the mindset that I wasn't going to cry. I didn't know Grandma Reni that well, so I had no reason to cry. Those who knew her had a reason to cry, but I didn't. That was until I heard the story of how she saved my grandpa's life.
When my grandpa was seven years old, his dad kicked him out of the house. Why? That's something that I wasn't told. But he was left to fend for himself at seven years old. Grandma Reni and her husband (who I never got the chance to meet) were friends with my grandpa's dad (Grandpa's dad's name was Ofie). When they heard that my grandpa had been kicked out, they took him in. They raised him as if he were their own, and even wanted to adopt him, but Ofie wouldn't let him. Ofie didn't want to lose a farm hand: yes, he still made my grandpa travel from West Virginia to Ohio in the summertime to work on his farm. She made my grandpa the man he is today. Who knows where he would be if she hadn't taken him in: I know for sure that I wouldn't exist.
My grandpa's three sister's, Barbara, Beverly, and Lois, spent the whole funeral making sure my grandpa was okay. Yes, it was their real mom who had died, but they put their emotions aside to make sure my grandpa was okay, to make sure my grandpa didn't need anything, and they clung to him the whole time. He's the oldest of the four, but the three ladies acted as if they were comforting the baby of the family: it was honestly a pretty amazing sight.
I'm very upset that I wasn't able to get to know this incredible lady who raised my wonderful grandfather and his three amazing sisters, but I am very thankful for everything she has done for my family. Rest in peace Grandma Reni: thank you for saving my grandpa's life.
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