Catherine “Kay” Hinchman, as I learned this week through her obituary and conversations with those who knew her, was a lot of things to a lot of people. She was a Daughter. A Sister. A Wife. A Mother. An Aunt. A Grandmother. A Friend. A Secretary. A Bank Teller. A Christian.

But at times like this, those words just don’t seem to be enough. “Grandmother” or “Meema” as we called her, are just NOT big enough words to en capture what she meant to me.

Kay Hinchman was a very real person to those of us who loved her. We had very real relationships with her. She was perfect to us, though she wasn’t always perfect.

For instance, when I was around twelve years old, my cousins, my brother and I were swimming at my Aunt’s house. Meema was “in charge“ of us kids and was sitting in a lawn chair under a tree. At some point a discussion occurred and while I don’t remember the details, I remember, as though it was yesterday, my Meema saying:

“Well when I used to smoke…”

“WHAT?!?? You used to smoke?” I interrupted.

“Oh yea! And I had sex three times, too!” she retorted.

Then she laughed and laughed as the four of us kids looked at her, horrified!

Laughing was one of her favorite things to do. She was infamous for interrupting awkward, serious or sad moments with a joke. But then she would start laughing so much midway through the joke, she would forget the punchline. We would all end up laughing because her laughter was contagious. And she knew the laughter was the most important part, anyways!

She also one time convinced me that Phase10 was played with 7 cards! About ten minutes into the “Run of 9” phase she decided I (not she) had made the mistake and informed me matter-of-factly “Phase10 is played with 10 cards, that’s why it’s called Phase10!”

But of all the funny and real memories of my Meema, my most favorite memories were when I was snuggling with her on the couch. She would always lay on the couch, sideways, on her hip so that she could read her book under the lamp light. Her legs would make a triangle and in that triangle was just enough room to snuggle a grandkid like me.

She always called it “The Nest”.

“Come snuggle in The Nest”, she would say.

Now as an adult I realize that she was always making a nest. The way she was an amazing cook. The way the coffee was always hot. The way she kept her flower beds and back porch perfect. The way the ice trays were always dumped. She was making a nest…for her family, for her friends, for strangers who became family. She was making a nest for everyone!

She also always had a Bible on her table. Her faith was more a part of who she was than her own DNA. We talked about Jesus all of the time. And although she could probably quote every piece of scripture in The Bible, she never did that to me. We always talked about Jesus in a big-picture, real-life sort of way.

And now, as an adult, my “big-picture, real-life” understanding of The New Testament is this:

Jesus walked around for years, building A Nest everywhere he went. He gathered people of all walks of life, of all backgrounds, sinners and non-sinners, and he loved them. Then he taught them how to build a nest for others.

So my Meema followed Jesus, not just with her words but with the way she lived! The way she laughed. The way she loved. The way she made new friends. The way she built a nest for all!

A few days before she passed, our entire family was surrounding her bed. And she was struggling a little to get out her words. But she said very clearly:

“I love everyone in this room”.

And I think if she were here today she would say, “Jesus and I love every single one of you in this room”.

So today and every day moving forward, in honor of Kay Hinchman, “Daughter. Sister. Wife. Mother. Aunt. Grandmother. Friend. Secretary. Bank Teller. Christian.”:

Be a Nest Maker!

A Nest Maker for all…

Safe Travels!

Morgan Rae