It has brought some memories back to me from my senior year in high school. My grandmother lived with us. She and I just had this special bond. I can’t explain it. We would sit and talk for hours. She would tell me what time my bedroom light went off the night before, and tell me that I studied too much.
I would tell her that she should eat something besides ice cream and cookies for dinner. We would giggle and she had a wonderful laugh. The best times were when I sat with her long enough, that the stories just started to roll. As time went on, she opened up to me about everything. I just loved her, and I had no doubt of her love for me.
I went on a youth ski trip my senior year, and while I was gone my grandmother fell and had a stroke. My mother gave her around the clock care after that. It was difficult for everyone, but we just loved her and wanted her with us.
The day came, however, when the family had to decide to put her in a nursing home. That is day that I will never forget. As she was being carried to the car, she took my hand and said, “Don’t forget me, Tracy, remember me”. She repeated it. I can hear her voice. I assured her and assured her, as I kissed her hand. They are my mother’s hands and my hands. I could never forget her.
I do a lot of visualization in prayer. I picture the steps of the throne of grace stretched out before me. I picture myself in a ball at the foot of the cross covered in the blood of Christ…thank you, Lord. We attend a church that has the Lord’s Supper every Sunday. This is a time that I put myself in the presence of the Lord. I have made sure that my accounts of confession and forgiveness are settled, and I freely enter into His presence. He always waits for me there.
Sometimes this is what I see. I go to the door of the upper room. I am wearing a burdensome, rough and long coat - unmanageable and unruly. I feel the weight of it bearing down on my shoulders as I get to the door. The requirement for entering this room is the removal of my jacket. I open the door.
It is dimly lit and there Jesus sits waiting for me, seated behind a table. He smiles and tells me eagerly that He is glad that I came, and to come in and sit down. I slip off this heavy coat outside of the door and leave it there. It is the compilation of my burdens, my worries, my week and my flesh. I leave it at the door. I feel relieved and I obey His voice. I go and sit across from Him. There is never a more tender welcome than the one that He gives me. He has bread and wine already prepared for us, and He says, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me (Luke 22:19).”
When Jesus said this to His disciples, he was talking to people that He loved. He was telling his loved ones what was coming, but He was also making the plea of a friend and loved one. “Do this in remembrance of me”, is an insertion that we only see in Luke, and retold in 1 Corinthians 11:24, 25. I think that it is so wonderful and so personal…so human.
My grandmother did not want to be a passing thought in my mind just because she did not live with us, anymore. She wanted to be present with me forever. She wanted for my children to speak her name and honor her memory. Christ wanted to be remembered. He wanted for those whom he loved, and who loved Him so much, to be with Him forever. And so we sit together, and he says, “Don’t forget me, Tracy, remember me”.