Grace, there are many definitions. It can be heard, seen and felt. My mom says grace before every meal.
I’ve heard it since I was a little kid before every meal—breakfast, lunch and dinner. We would sit down at the table—hands washed, shirts on, no hats—with nothing yet on our plates and mom would say, in her sweet little accent, “Who’s going to say the Grace?”
“Bless us, O Lord and these thy gifts, which we are about to receive, from thy bounty through Christ, our Lord. Amen,” we said before digging in.
I admit, I don’t say it before every meal now (although I should). Unless I’m with my mom. With her, it doesn’t matter where you are, she says “the Grace.”
My wife, my stepdaughter, a niece, my brothers and one brother’s girlfriend were in Grand Junction last week. My mom had a colonoscopy at Saint Mary’s Hospital. The test revealed a tumor, which the doctor told us he was 98 percent sure was malignant.
After the procedure we went to Old Chicago’s for lunch. Mom had been fasting before the procedure and she loves pizza but before she put a piece of pizza on her plate, she said “the Grace.”
I saw grace in mom’s eyes and expression and heard grace in her voice when she told me Judy (Eskelson) had called her with the biopsy results that confirmed the doctor’s opinion.
“She said I have cancer,” mom relayed from her conversation with her caregiver. “God will take care of me,” she continued, partly in Spanish, partly in English. “If He wants me to be viva (alive), I will. Si es tempo para ir (if it’s time to go), that’s okay.”
I didn’t cry because my 86-year-old mom didn’t.
I felt grace in the hug I got from Jackie Pozorski Tuesday. She and her husband Kurt brought their daughter Kacey’s obituary and a photo in for this week’s edition. Jackie didn’t cry, so neither did I.
I had worn a pink rubber bracelet with Kacey’s name on it since the four-year-old was first diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor more than a year ago. The bracelet started to wear. A couple of weeks ago, while unloading some things from the car it caught on the seat, tore, and fell off my wrist for the first time since I put it on. I did cry then.
I felt grace again when mom’s CT scan determined that the tumor is limited to her colon. With the grace of God, surgery will remove the cancer and she will recover.
Bless us, O Lord …
Very beautiful article, Bobby. My prayers are with your mom and your family. and for little Kacey’s family too.
I meant to sign my name to the comment abover regarding the very beautiful article. Thanks again for the very elegant reminder. Nancy Gibson