James C. Godwin Sr.

As I sat to begin this and began to cry, my youngest, my three year old son with a voice of concern said, "Mom, grown-ups don't cry, "then, thinking, he posited, "Well, I guess sometimes they do. " Rachel, two years his senior, who has been very quick to correct her brother lately, said, "Mikey, I think this is one of those times. "

A year or so ago Nona Belle Creech Godwin Pope Matthews asked me to write this. I would have loved for her to have read it and for her to have given her approval but this is not the case. In the time of her request I was far more interested in her life than thinking about her death.

She had recently been to a funeral where the granddaughter of the deceased had written a short passage about her perception of her grandmother. She liked this very much and, during this particular visit, approached me about the writing.

There is nothing that I can say about my Grandma Nona that anyone who has been in her presence more than a second doesn't already know. She was a bright light, a beacon, a lighthouse for us all. There is an empty place in this dark morning as she has taken her leave of this world and left us for God's sanctuary for safekeeping. We, the mourning, should take reminders from her example to embrace the light that molded us, shaped us and its effect rather than focusing on its absence.

Nona in one word: love. Anyone that was loved by Nona knew, without a doubt, that they were loved. She told me reassuringly time and time again, "I love you, no matter what." Her love was eternal, without hesitation or boundaries, without conditions and always forgiving.

My Grandma Nona always surrounded herself with home and hearth. She would greet you at the door with a bear hug and big smile that let you know she was glad you were there. She loved to invite her family and friends in. Her delicious meals were the centerpiece of celebration at a house filled with laughter and, of course, love. There wasn't anything my grandmother Nona couldn't cook, sew or grow. And all with the tinkling voice of song, the sweet soothing voice of perseverance, a joke and a laugh.

There are many stories I can tell. Like her times playing Parcheesi at the beach; her quick ear in noticing Chap, Linda's beloved pup's barky request for "hamburger"; her stories of Paul and his, "Nonie" when told were accompanied by laughter and proudly shining eyes. She loved her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren completely and without exhaustion. Even when she became tired and was ready to go, she approached me with a bear hug and big smile at the door.

Nona was less educated than any of her children or grandchildren, but encouraged us all to learn and go to school. As a matter of fact, I never knew how extensive her vocabulary was until Mr. Matthews revealed her age in front of a crowd of her peers.

She was strong, resourceful and enduring. But I think the most important part of Nona was her love and forgiveness. Grandma Nona would want us all to heal and, most importantly, heal as a community. She would want us to love each other, "No matter what". She would want family to forgive family and friend to forgive friend. She would want us to keep the traditions of her home alive, joined hand-in-hand in prayer and laughter. She would not want us to let the love and light that guided and formed us be lost. Not even for a moment.

Her Loving Granddaughter,

Julia Vaughan