I have certainly known her my whole life, and one of my first memories is when she was pregnant with Laura, her first born. She and Uncle Forest had just moved into this cute little house downtown Nahunta Georgia. It had the sweetest little front porch, and I remember thinking that Aunt Margaret was the coolest person alive. She was the youngest of my mother's sisters and so closest in age to me, which at that time in my life at eight or nine I was desperate for someone I could relate to. This lady seemed to always love life and welcomed all the people she had in her life, as no one was a stranger to her. One of the added benefits in living in a small southern town was knowing everyone and all of their ancestors along with their family history. So Uncle Forest's many brothers and sisters and their children were always around and smiling and just doing life together, along with my mother's sisters and brother and their families. This out loud living was foreign to me coming from the life of a military brat, where we lived with strangers and as we started making friends it was time to leave. I remember feeling a bit of an outsider in these large family gatherings, but I would always see her smile and hear her laughter and then I would see how easy it was to belong. I watched her do life with such grace and compassion for community.
That memory of the little house in downtown Nahunta for me is loaded with expectation for a life of adventure. At the time of this memory Aunt Margaret was really pregnant and I know that Laura was born soon after the memory, because I remember visiting the new baby soon after. That is how she lived her life, pregnant with the next adventure, excited for what is to come, laughing, singing and face ablaze with hopeful expectation. The very nature of this women was a beautiful tapestry of life perfectly woven by the Father and it represented what was dear to His heart, love, community and hopeful expectation.
These days we have spent as she declined in health, so uncharacteristic of the way she lived, we found ourself carring that same hopeful expectation of her recovery. The last day of her life I was joined by two friends praying for her, the Lord gave me a vision of the setting sun. I knew her life was drawing to a close and as it turned out that would be her last sunset. The grace and beauty of that sunset and its perfect light epitomized her life, a perfect light for so many of us.
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