Bound By Love--A Tribute to Grandma E (Ernestine Ainsworth)

When I was a little girl, my parents’ parents lived far away, and I didn’t get to see them very often, but that didn’t stop me from knowing what it is to be close to a grandmother. You see, when I was a little girl, Grandma E loved me, and her love bound us together as family.

Love was a common theme in her life. She loved her husband; she loved the babies at the daycare where she worked; she loved her siblings and cousins and their children and grandchildren; she loved God and the families she adopted at her church, families like mine. Some of the treasured memories I have of Grandma E are hearing about each of the different people she loved. I suspect we all got to hear about each other, because Grandma E. loved to talk about all the people she loved to other people she loved.


Through the many years I knew her, I had the privilege of listening to lots of her adventures, some from the Great Depression, some about her family growing up, some about the factory where she worked during World War 2. Reading between the lines, I know that many chapters in her life weren’t easy, but she had the habit of finding and remembering the bright side of situations and the very best side of people.


Helping whoever was nearby was another common theme in her life. As I listened to her memories, over time, I learned to listen for the person that she helped in each period of her life. She never had a lot in the way of material possessions, but I know she was always willing to share whatever she had with those in need.


Grandma E was a very rare woman. Not every adopted grandmother can appreciate and enjoy the horrible faces made by my little hyper-active brother during the serious parts of sermons at church, or would pay attention to the fashion sketches of a 10 year old girl and keep them folded up as treasured possessions in her Bible until the girl is 35 with children of her own. Not every adopted grandmother could revel in my dad snoring when he fell asleep in church, or would be willing to share her extensive knowledge of gardening with my mother, an obvious plant murderer. Not everyone of Grandma E.’s generation could look beyond superficial differences like the color of skin to find common ground and friendship with folks from other cultures and backgrounds, but Grandma E could. The amount of love that flowed through her heart and into the lives of others was truly extraordinary.


Though she didn’t have any children by blood, her legacy lives on in the lives she touched, and in the traditions she handed down to us, her loved ones. Her legacy lives on when we love our families, when we enjoy babies, make family of friends at church, when we give to those who are needy, when find the sunny side side of trials, or reach across cultural lines to find friendship with those who are very different from us. Her legacy lives on in each of her loved ones, whether we were her family by blood or by love.


I am thankful to have known Grandma E. as my grandma, and sad not to see her again on earth, but it brings me great joy to imagine her in heaven, reunited with many of the ones she loved who have gone before her. It gives me great pleasure to imagine God saying to her, “Well done, good and faithful servant,” and to know that I will see her again in heaven some day. Goodbye for now, Grandma E. Thank you for loving me so much and making room in your life for me for these past 35 years. I love you too.