My Mummu, who turned 102 years old in November, passed away peacefully in her sleep yesterday. She announced that she was tired and "going to sleep now". She is now safely home in the arms of her Lord, which she has been waiting for for quite some time now.
We all knew it would come. She was 102, after all. After 100, quite frankly, we have known. Quite possibly before that. But this little optimist in me, that believer, that holder-on to family, actually looked forward to announcing "my grandmother turned 103 today!".
We will head for the funeral here in a day. So much business to take care of when someone you love goes home to God. But tonight, the business is sweet remembrances. So many of them.
I have written before of her socks. The Socks, as I call them. This past Christmas I gifted the men in my family socks from my own hands, but they are no match for The Socks. Not that The Socks are the greatest knit items ever. (Though they are fabulously constructed!) They quite simply are The Socks. Made by Mummu. Loved and cherished and coveted for years. Nothing more to say.
Every Christmas there were knitted or crocheted items to be opened. There is not much to say tonight. My heart is tired. But these pictures of Christmases past tell much of a Mummu's love.
I loved and adored this little braided leg girl.
She is dirty from the years, but with a styrofoam ball head,
I'm not sure how to wash her.
What a lovely little couple! My farm husband/wife duo.
These two came with pre-made heads.
This little penguin was loved so much his eye popped off!
That is all for tonight.