Grandma Bos

She was the definition of beauty, both inside and out. She was a woman of God, a grace-filled follower of Christ, and her life reflected her strong faith. She was present in my life since the day I was born. She was the matriarch of the Bos family. She was my Grandma.

She was a gifted artist as well as a fierce competitor. She won a foot race around the barn against my Uncle Andy. Though he denies this account, she always insisted on being the winner, and she had several witnesses that confirmed her story of victory. She reigned supreme in cards. Together, Grandma and I were the original Blues. As my blue-eyed partner, we seldom lost against the Browns. Grandma and I always had a special bond.

From birth to fifth grade, she was my next-door neighbor. Her house became our bus stop that my brother and I created on our ride home from school. She was my safety net, even providing me with an escape route as I ran through her house carrying my bike as Mom chased me with threats of a spanking. Her door was always open, and she was always waiting, ready to play cards and listen to my lengthy stories. Snacks and games were the norm at Grandma's house, and I would stay as long as possible, usually until Mom called me to come home. "Are you going to play cards or watch t.v., Peter?" she would say, trying to keep me focused. Her efforts always came with mixed results.

Throughout the years, Grandma and I shared many special memories. When my family moved from Michigan to Kansas and then to Pennsylvania, she never let more than 3 months pass between visits. She slept in my messy bed with unwashed sheets and used my dirty bathroom when she came to visit, never once telling Mom that I hadn't cleaned up prior to her stay. On a trip to Florida, I remember running with her to find a park ranger after the "Great Water Main Break," only to have her leave me stranded as she took a ride on the golf cart back to the site. She was a trooper, visiting landmark after landmark, especially the Harry S. Truman library, which was a frequent visit when we lived in Kansas. She was always there for me with her unconditional love and support. She was a special woman.

She was my travel partner, taking me on my first overseas trip to Italy for my 13th birthday. Together we figured out the Roman bus schedule, realizing after we boarded that we hadn't bought tickets at the station. Luckily, no one was checking. She was a world traveler, crossing the Atlantic 27 times and the Pacific 4 times. She loved an adventure, and even more, she loved to share the experience with others.

Rome, Italy October 1991

Roman Catacombs

Together, we conquered Italy twice and Morocco once after I was married. We also took several family trips across the U.S. together.

Herculean, Italy October 2002

Sorrento, Italy October 2002

Morocco, November 2007

She was an expert in bartering no matter where she was. She was every shopper's hidden weapon against sellers, getting the best possible deal. Grandma got what she wanted for the price she wanted, and always with a smile on her face.

Fes, Morocco November 2007

Fes, Morocco November 2007

She was there by my side as I married Emilia, providing me with an example of a Christ-centered marriage. Married for 58 years to her high-school sweetheart, she was an inspiration for all. She and Grandpa treated Emilia as one of their own grandchildren. She was so full of love, and I loved that about her.

She came to see Olivia when she was 3 days old. Olivia was her ninth great-grandchild. She was one of the biggest fans of Olivia's "cute face."

We lost her today.

As much as I wish that Olivia could have known her better, I realize that she is now at peace with her Lord. And Olivia will know about her Grandma Bos, just not the way I did, but I will always be telling Olivia and my future children about the legacy Grandma left me. She will always be a part of our lives. As she once said, "I had 75 good years and only 1 bad year." This past year was extremely difficult for her, but she remained strong and her faith never waivered. This was my Grandma.

I love you and miss you.

Peter

The Artist & His Brush

The Master Artist, God, has the perfect plan for each of us, each of our canvases. Despite the imperfections that are inherent in our canvas, His sacrifice overcomes all flaws, painting a masterpiece in His image. These ongoing works of art are our lives.

Some paintings are meticulously detailed, while others remain abstract. They range in myriad colors, composition and subject matter. God adjusts the chroma, from vivid, bold colors to pale, muted tones, reflecting our personalities. Each is a masterpiece in progress, and no two are alike.

While The Artist has predestined the final masterpiece, He provides Brushes in our lives that add their stroke of color. These Brushes use the palettes He provides to bleed His colors onto our canvas in their own unique stroke, leaving a lasting impression on our masterpiece. Because of the Brushes’ devotion to The Artist, He equips them as artists in their own right, on earth.

In my life, you were His Brush. God used you to paint His will into my life. I am blessed that with each stroke of color; through conversation, your love, support, and encouragement, you added to my masterpiece. The time we spent together has impacted me in so many ways. You have enriched my masterpiece in my view of God, love, marriage, and life. You truly were a Brush that The Artist has used in not only the painting of my life, but in more lives than you’ll ever know.

Thank you for teaching me how to paint, in more ways than one, while I visited you in Florida and knew you throughout these years. You gave me devotion, love, patience, and support as one of your own grandchildren, immediately welcoming me into the family. I will now carry your artistry and unique stroke as His Brush into my own family members’ masterpieces. Thank you for being His Brush in my life.

I love you and you are dearly missed.

She's in the Big League Now!

This morning Olivia went to the toddler nursery at LaGrave. Since she is a "well walker," she no longer needs to spend her church time playing with the infants. She can now cruise around with the other fellow nursery walkers and play in the room with the "fun" toys. When we picked her up, a worker was holding her while Olivia was pointing at things on the window sill. The worker then brought her up to the pick-up window, and Olivia waved at all the parents picking up their children. She was happy to see her Dad and me.

Dressed for the toddler nursery