He Gives Sight To The Blind

Grandma Williamson's Eulogy

Psalm 146 is a great Psalm – "Praise the Lord, oh my soul…Blessed is he whose help is the Lord, whose hope is in the Lord…He upholds the causes of the oppressed, he gives food to the hungry, he sets prisoners free, he gives sight to the blind…" 

I remember a time back in middle school, my English teacher assigned us to write an essay which required us to wrestled with the following question: which of the five senses would we most miss if we were so handicapped. Well, smell was an easy one the rule out, after all, in our family some smells are simply better unsmelled. I appreciate taste, but I couldn't justify it a place above hearing, seeing and touch. Wrestling with the difficult decision between these final three, I remember writing about sight. So much of life enters through our eyes, that if we really stop and think about it, how much would just pass us by without this very important sense. Imagine a world without sunsets, Fall leaves, or mountainous landscapes. Imagine communicating without the visual side of body language and facial expression. Imagine the tasks of daily life without the visual radar to locate an object, direct our movements and capture important information needed, for example, to fill a glass with milk. Familiar settings are learned and become quite manageable, but imagine the very real anxiety associated with a new environment. A world without sight has the potential of being quite lonely, mundane, and haunted by the feelings that so much of life is passing by.

Unfortunately, this was the world my grandma, Betty Williamson, entered into some 13 years ago as her eye sight had then deteriorated to the point where it was affecting her everyday life. About that time, she surrendered her driver's license, knowing she could no longer safely see the road. She started to use a large magnifying glass to do her favorite "word jumbles" in the daily paper, and only a few years later had to give that up completely. She still loved and remained faithful to Wheel of Fortune long after the "watching" became merely "listening."

While some of us were tempted to feel sadness for Betty as she lost more and more of her eyesight, I appreciate her response toward it. She is remembered as saying, "I don't dwell on what I can't do, but rather on what I still can." Now that's a lesson all of us can take with us no matter what barriers this fallen world places on our path. Let's focus on what we can do and keep on keeping on. 

I am reminded of another lesson we can learn from my grandma, in this case in her relationship with my grandpa. As the two of them got along in years, a remarkable co-dependence formed between them. Jack became Betty's eyes whether it be helping in the kitchen, reading emails and letters, or finding lost items. At the same time, Betty became grandpa's hands and feet sometimes as he struggled to get around and bend over to pick things up. Together, they could accomplish about anything that they needed to, a complete person. Isn't that what marriage is supposed to look like? Two people using their unique abilities to love and serve one another as together they accomplish the common goal in running a household? How about the body of Christ, the church? The Bible speaks of the uniquely gifted members of the church as different members of one body, each dependent on the other, reaping one another's challenges as well as joys. We had a living example of that in Jack and Betty, and I pray that we not forget it.

It is no surprise that Betty was loved within her family and circle of friends. Joan spoke of her as a caring mother, specifically remembering how she would find 101 ways to encourage safety and good health, "Come straight home afterward," "drive carefully," "bundle up, don't want you getting sick." My dad, Gary remembered her thoughtfulness, specifically one particular time when she secretly planned and perfectly executed a surprise get together with some close relatives, which turned into an evening of gut-busting laughter. Although most of the time Betty was a quiet person, she did have a sense of humor and particularly was able to laugh at herself. Anthony loved to tease her about the time she was sitting at the breakfast table and said, "this jelly tastes terrible, what kind is it?" to which Anthony responded, "Um, grandma, you didn't grab the jelly, that's the BBQ sauce!" Betty's sense of humor was tested one day at the rest stop on I-39. Wanting to use the restroom, grandma nudged grandpa for help in finding the right door. "Right over there" he said, unwise not to double check his directions. "Uh madam, I think you are in the wrong place" came the deep voice of the man posted up along the wall. Like a jack rabbit, Betty shot out of that bathroom door, rain bonnet flapping in the wind and her voice echoed down the corridor, "Thanks a lot Jack!" And so the beautiful co-dependence I described earlier, well, has its occasional mishap, but it made for plenty of laughter that all of us, even Betty, enjoyed.

Another incident involved a little practical joke played on her early on in her disability. Back in the day, I was the proud owner of plastic doggie doo-doo. Well, by my dad's suggestion, we placed that realistic pile at the top of the stairs in grandma and grandpa's home. Not long after, one of us boys announced in a loud voice "Oh the dog messed!" at which we kids all surrounded it like flies. Grandma leaned over us, took one look and said, "Don't bother it, I'll get the paper towels." In the burst spontaneity, my dad said, "Nah, don't do that, I'll just give it a kick…" Grandma stopped dead in her tracks and looked on with horror as her grown son gave a swift kick and sent the green lump tumbling down the steps. 

Now mind you, Grandma always seemed to get her revenge on us pranksters, most often at the card table. Her eyesight may have been dull, but her mind was still sharp enough to whoop us in the family River games. And he did so without mercy.

One of the most evident characteristics of Betty Williamson that we all remember is her devotion to and love for serving her family. One grandson said, "there was nothing she wouldn't do for us kids." And that was especially true of her service in making our "tummies happy." Fresh homemade Rice Krispie Treats awaited our every arrival and pies were a guarantee after finishing a good meal. Once we kids grew up, there was always an open room at the Williamson hotel, as grandpa would call it. But we knew that grandpa was really just the bell hop who greeted us at the door. It was grandma filling the role of housekeeper, linen washer, head chef, waitress, and concierge. She served us in so many ways and I know that it was important to grandma that she, despite her vision impairment, was able to serve.

There is one story of grandma that I think summarizes her perspective on life really well. I wish I had a picture of it. There I would see a ladder or two up against a house, paint cans dangling from the rungs and brushes busy at what appears to be a very large task. But down below, at ground level, I would notice a lady in her mid-eighties, sitting in a lawn chair, slapping paint onto the block foundation. A few strokes later she would move her chair down a few feet, take her place again and continue. When I learned about this scene, I asked Anthony, "Why do you think she was helping you paint your house?" to which he responded, "Well, I think she just wanted to contribute." That's it. Despite living in the blurred world of fading eyesight, my grandma Betty had not given up on making a contribution into the lives of her loved ones. She had not bought into the lie that she was too old, too weak, or too blind to make a difference, but instead, she lived every last day living out that same caring, thoughtful, sharp-minded and service-oriented personality that she exuberated for as long as any of us knew her. "I don't dwell on what I can't do, but rather on what I still can."

The Bible speaks often of blindness, many times a metaphor for spiritual blindness. Just as so much in life can pass a blind person by, so also the truth of the gospel can pass right on by, unnoticed by the spiritually blind. In Betty's case, however, we trust that her physical impairment did not mirror a more important spiritual impairment. Her faithfulness to United Presbyterian Church and more importantly to the message of the gospel preached from this pulpit reflect the faith required of her for God's free gift of salvation through Jesus Christ. And for this reason, we can gather together this morning in celebration. Yes, we grieve the loss of a mother, a grandmother and friend, but at the same time we rejoice. We rejoice as the Psalmist says, "Praise the Lord, O my soul." We praise him on this occasion because we trust along with the psalmist, "blessed is he whose help is the Lord, whose hope is in the Lord." And finally, we rejoice and praise God along with!
the Psalmist as he is the one who gives "sight to the blind." Betty Williamson closed her broken, old eyes on New Year's Eve, but has since opened a brand new pair in the eternal dwelling God has prepared for her in advance. I smile to think of her welcomed into the heavenly hotel by a familiar bell hop. I can imagine them now, as grandpa shows grandma around their new castle, he smirks, "The bathroom is right over there…" to which grandma will shake her and smile, "Thanks a lot Jack!" And then the two of them, side by side in their new, completely unimpaired bodies, together they approach the throne of their God and Savior in worship. Grandma's new eyes gazing upon the most breathtaking sight possible, the face of God. "Praise the Lord, O my soul!...Blessed is he whose help is the Lord, whose hope is in the Lord…He upholds the causes of the oppressed, he gives food to the hungry, he sets prisoners free, he gives sight to the blind." Amen.