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Hebrew Scripture Reading—Deuteronomy 34: 1-12
Sasha was sixteen and could not seem to adjust back to life as normal. She had returned to school after the memorial service for her grandmother, and she simply did not feel like chatting with her friends at lunch or in the hallways as she typically did. In truth, she silently felt angry at her friends. Her friends were concerned for her and were not the least bit insensitive. The problem was that they could not and would never know just how wonderful and great Grandma Mosley was. To Sasha, it seemed an injustice that the loss of the best grandmother in the world would fail to register as supremely significant in the emotional lives of everyone else, not just her family.
Of course her friends had never really gotten to know her grandmother and of course there were other wonderful grandmothers whose grandchildren thought they were also the best in the world, but still it just didn’t seem right that her grandmother might pass from this world without everyone and everything coming to a stop under the enormous weight of the loss.
Sasha also feared that her grandmother might soon be forgotten by almost everybody. If the world didn’t come to a stop, how would it ever remember her as she should be remembered? Not only did the world seem unfair to Sasha, but soon God seemed unfair. Why did God have to allow the world to be so messed up? First, grandma has to die, and then she is to be forgotten by the world as if she never existed. At home, these thoughts continued to dominate Sasha’s thinking and affect her behavior. For the first time in her life, Sasha no longer found herself enamored with the celebrities on TV. They seemed unreal and insignificant compared to who her grandmother was. She even stopped watching TV altogether. Instead, night after night she retreated quietly into her bedroom where she would curl up on her bed until morning. All of this troubled Sasha’s mother. She did not want her daughter to lose the brightness and gaiety that brought so much life to their house.
One night Sasha’s mother knocked on Sasha’s door. She asked if they could talk. Sasha nodded. Her mother sat on her bed, and soon Sasha began sharing all that was bothering her. She told her mother how she wished other people knew grandma the way they did and how she feared grandma would not be remembered. Sasha’s mother knew it was true that many people, not even their closest friends, would ever know all the things that Grandma Mosley had done. Over the years, Grandma Mosley had been their rock in the storm many a time. She had cared for them after Sasha’s father died when Sasha was just one. She had rallied their spirits when Sasha’s little brother became sick with Leukemia. She had brought all three of them into her own house when Sasha’s mother was unemployed and unable to pay rent.
Yet, Grandma Mosley had also been more than a source of support in times of trouble. She had been their source of affectionate devotion and enthusiastic delight. Together Sasha and her mother, recalled Grandma Mosley’s favorite pastime: bowling. Every Sunday after they had gone to church and after all the weekend homework was done, the entire family went bowling. It had been a tradition for as long as Sasha could remember. Their weekly outing was like a reoccurring drama with which none of them ever tired. With well-worn red leather bowling bags that Grandma Mosley had bought at the Salvation Army, the entire family would arrive at Little Lou’s Bowling Lanes just after 5:30. Few things triggered a sense of happiness for Sasha like the gaudy orange carpet and the musty cardboard smell of Little Lou’s.
Despite efforts to arrive earlier, Sasha’s family always seemed to walk through the doors minutes after the Sharp family, their archrival and nemesis. They could always find the Sharp family putting on their shoes and doing shoulder stretches down by lane number two. Lane number one was for the Mosley team for which Grandma Mosley served as the captain, coach, and cheerleader. Whenever one of them stood up for their turn, Grandma Mosley would call out, “There you go! Take us to the promised land!” Thanks to Grandma Mosley all of them had learned to bowl soon after they had learned to walk. Each of them had impeccable form from years of practice. Each of them understood the physics of bowling from their grandmother’s earnest and passionate instruction. They knew how to control the speed of the ball, how to visualize its path, how to make it hook and curve. By the time Sasha was twelve, she had mastered the techniques and strategies of bowling. At which point, Grandma Mosley informed her that it was time to develop her mental bowling skills. For this, focus was everything. “Don’t become distracted. Don’t become self-conscious about your form. Focus on what’s ahead of you,” said Grandma Mosley. “Focus is what will get you into your groove,” she emphasized. For her, getting into a groove was the ultimate goal each Sunday. If one got into a groove, the high scores would follow. One would reach the promised land.
At the end of the evening, whether the Mosley team had won or lost, they always celebrated at the snack bar with a full round of nachos, curly fries, and chicken strips. The celebration always seemed to involve more than just their family and the Sharp family. Grandma Mosley was well-known at Little Lou’s. She belonged to three bowling leagues and seemed to be friends with the all the regulars. Inevitably, some of them would pass by and be invited to join the “grease feast” as Grandma Mosley liked to call it. Sometimes Little Lou himself stopped by. Ultimately, the bowling alley had been a source of camaraderie and community for Grandma Mosley almost all her life. Indeed, despite her doctor’s advice she bowled to the age of 81 with the same 14-pound ball she used as a young woman. Even after she could no longer bowl herself, she still coached and cheered the rest of the family.
Late into the night, Sasha and her mother recalled as many Grandma Mosley bowling stories as they could. Toward the end, Sasha confessed that she might not be able to bowl that next Sunday. It just wouldn’t be the same without grandma. Her mother nodded her head in agreement, but in an instant her face held still as if she was considering an important thought. She then said, “Let’s wait and see how we feel on Sunday.”
That Sunday Sasha was in her room upstairs at 5 pm when she began to hear shoes and voices scuffling through the front door below. She quickly finished the last of the math problems she was assigned before stopping at her brother’s room on her way downstairs. Together the two them went down approaching voices that sounded familiar. When they reached the bottom of the stairs, they were amazed to see a room full of their friends from Little Lou’s. There was the Sharp family, there were Grandma Mosley’s friends from each of her three bowling leagues, and there was Little Lou himself. When the crowd saw the children, the room became quiet.
Mrs. Sharp spoke first. She spoke about how much her family loved Grandma Mosley and how much she meant to them. She then said that she sure hoped Sasha and her brother would carry on the tradition and continue to play each Sunday. She was sure that Grandma Mosley would have wanted it that way. Next Little Lou spoke. He spoke about how much Grandma Mosley meant to his bowling establishment. He then paused and cleared his throat before he declared that he had a special announcement to make. On Thanksgiving weekend that year, Little Lou’s Bowling Alley was going to hold the first annual Grandma Mosley Bowling Tournament. The winner would get a trophy with a small replica of Grandma Mosley on top. All the proceeds from the tournament would go to the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society.
The room broke into applause and tears over this announcement. Little Lou then said that he had one condition for the tournament. The Mosley team would have to bowl in lane number one. And, with that a chorus of voices in the room could be heard calling out, “There you go! Take us to the promised land!” Overwhelmed, the Mosley team embraced each other and committed themselves to carrying on the spirit of their grandmother.
In the days and weeks ahead, Sasha still found herself often feeling blue. At such times, she would remember the friends who gathered that evening in her house. She would think about how Grandma Mosley’s legacy was continuing on, and if she paused and listened carefully, she could hear her grandmother’s voice. She could hear it telling her to focus on what’s ahead, to find her groove, and to take them all to the promised land. So it was, that Sasha carried on the tradition. Every Sunday she would walk through the doors of Little Lou’s and find herself giving thanks to God for the gift of Grandma Mosley and her undying spirit. Amen.