My family recently celebrated the life of my husband’s grandmother. We were incredibly lucky to have Grandma Irene in our lives for so many years. 

I don’t know a lot of people who knew a great-grandparent, but our son and daughter are old enough to remember her. While she lived three hours from us, she was very much aware of what we were all doing between our visits by keeping up with us on Facebook or through reading this column in her local paper. 

She kept us up-to-date by writing letters that she’d put into cards and send to arrive just in time for birthdays and holidays. You always knew to be on the lookout for an envelope in the mailbox from her a few days before those special days.

Sometimes Grandma Irene would send a handwritten letter just because and include a news clipping or pages from her daily devotionals that reminded her of us.

She had raised her family on a farm as well and knew what living in the country and raising crops and kids entailed. She loved seeing pictures of her great-grandkids holding lambs, working cattle, riding in a tractor or enjoying a meal in the field during harvest.

A handful of years ago, she moved into an assisted living facility in her small town in Southeast Kansas. She’d write us letters telling us about her days.

She stayed busy with her sewing and piano playing and eating out with family on Sundays. She’d write about the games she and the other residents would play and would mention on occasion that she’d outlived another one of her friends.

Regardless of the topic of her letters, we always knew she was staying active within her church and social circle. We also knew she was always praying for us and loved us immensely.

Her funeral was well attended for a woman who had outlived so many of her friends. Aside from family, the seats were filled with those who knew her from church or the community. 

At one point during her funeral, those in attendance were encouraged to share their memories of her. It took quite a while for the microphone to be passed around. 

It was evident that Grandma Irene loved a lot of people. Whether it was memories of her helping with 4-H projects, sewing quilts or gifting dish scrubs, writing letters, serving in her church or keeping a stash of cinnamon flavored candy and oatmeal cream pies in the pantry for her grandkids, the shared memories truly celebrated her and the work she did.

This is the time of the year when I’d normally find a blue, yellow or purple envelope in our mailbox containing a card and personalized handwritten letter inside letting us know she was thinking of us as we prepared for all of the spring work required on the farm.

I’ll miss those letters from Grandma Irene. They were simple, yet intentional, acts that let her loved ones know that she was thinking of them from afar. Those simple, intentional acts are what will remind me of Grandma Irene and the life she lived loving others.