My Aunt mentioned a phenomenon where once someone dies, the bad memories melt away and you are left with only the good, inspiring, and uplifting memories.
I absolutely love this idea. It reminds me of childbirth. It was the worst physical pain I’ve ever felt, and people told me that the memory of the pain would become fuzzy in the glow of the new life that had sprung from it. It is like that with Nanny. Now that she is in God’s glory, many of my distressing moments with her have melted away. She was often in utter confusion and worry, but I know that this wasn’t the true Nanny. This was the Nanny of dementia, of lost boundaries, of worry and preoccupation. The sum of the not-so-great things in her life had left its scar on her. But that mark was erased when Nanny was made complete in the presence of her shepherd. She had become everything her creator had intended, and we are able to remember the good, the strong, the glimpses of her living completely in God’s will.
Isn’t a beautiful thought that one day those that saw the worst of us will mostly remember the best?