Gratitude #24: Grandma Mac’s Apron. It has been one of those days where I had lots to do and little time to accomplish it. Holiday weeks always seem to be like that. Pick up the Grands from school. Come home to eat a little something before rushing back out the door for my tutoring job. Needless to say, didn’t want to drip left-over chicken gravy on my work clothes, so I reached for the best cover-up I know – Grandma Mac’s apron. As I slip it over my head, I smile because I know exactly what I am thankful for today – an old apron.
That apron has covered me many times and in many ways over the years. When I was little, I buried my face in it while she held me in her lap – usually with some kind of cookie or treat clutched tightly in my fist. She used it to dry my tears when there was a ruckus between me and my cousins. I even remember Grandma’s apron wiping my face after a family meal. Most of all, I remember this apron in her garden, as she taught me to know the difference between a weed and a veggie, birds and bees, spiders and insects, good dirt and bad dirt.
Grandma’s apron is like me. It is no longer the pristine creation it started out being. Stains and a few burned areas have added texture to the red and pink floral pattern. The edges are frayed and faded, and there is a hole or two where the almost translucent fabric has finally worn through. Following Grandma’s footsteps, I have worn it while cooking, carrying bounty in from the garden, rocking my babies to sleep, or wiping up messes on tiny faces (can you see it in this old picture?). It is a touchstone to my past and a legacy that I hope to pass on when the time is right.
“God did extraordinary miracles through Paul, so that even handkerchiefs and APRONS that had touched him were taken to the sick, and their illnesses were cured and the evil spirits left them.” Acts 19:12 NIV (emphasis is mine)
When I touch Grandma Mac’s apron, a miracle does happens. I hear her laugh again. I see her smile. This Thursday, I will wear it as I cook our Thanksgiving turkey, and I will remember – once again – being enfolded in her arms. Today, as I thought back to the Grands crowding onto my lap as we read their “sticker” books or dancing in front of the Christmas tree as I played Christmas hymns on the piano, I smile again. I realized Many things can be a legacy…a prayer shawl, a handkerchief, an apron… Grandma Mac’s apron and a few of her kitchen tools are her tangible legacy to me, but it is the miracle of her life and love that covers me when I wear that old apron that is her real legacy to me. And – oh my – I am – oh – so very thankful.