We Will Miss You

She was a "one-of-a-kind" lady. She always smiled. She was always ready to "go." In fact, she would tell you, "Don't ask me if you don't really want me to go." And then when you did, she would simply say, "Let me get my purse." She was a small woman, but she was full of spunk. You knew that from the sparkle in her eye and the stories of mischief that were shared. Also because a few years ago she threatened her full-grown nephew with, "I'm going to turn you over my checkered apron and play who'd of thought it." Apparently, she had lots of funny sayings. Only days before she died, she said she looked like "a Tennessee mule walking on ice." But most importantly, she never let anyone leave without telling them, "I love you." In fact, the last words she spoke to me was, "I love everybody." And she did. And everyone loved her, too. That was evident by the hundreds of people that came out to the funeral home in spite of the rain. It was evident by the number of people that gathered around her hospital bed at a moment's notice when we thought she was passing. She never had any children, but she had a LARGE family. A family that was blessed by her life and inspired by her death. We were inspired because we knew where she went. She had finally made the trip of a lifetime that outshined that long-awaited Alaskan cruise that she never went on. She went home to see the two men she loved best: her Savior and her husband. Goodbye, Mrs. Sallie Clemons. We will miss you for now, but we will see you again.