All Because Two People Fell in Love
My Grandma died tonight at 7:13 pm. It wasn't a surprise. She's been passively dying for a few years. Actively doing so since last Monday. But you're never ready, are you? My Grandma was larger than life. She still is. She always had cookies and kool-aid. She taught me how to shell peas and husk corn. She beat my uncle in a 100-yard dash when he was 18 and she was in her late forties. Up until about 15 years ago, she could kick the top of a door frame. She went sledding with us up the canyon, played in the lake, and was a better cook than anyone with their own tv show.
There are (if I'm counting correctly) 95 people on this earth that carry a part of her in their veins. There are hundreds more who carry her in their hearts.
Last night, as I tried to sleep, I began to cry. A picture came so clearly to me of my Grandma entering a room. She was greeted boisterously. It was a long-awaited reunion. She smiled at my cousin Blaine, who died in a plane crash two years ago. She blew a kiss to Matt, my brother-in-law who succumbed to a brain tumor when I was 16. She waved to Cody, my cousin who was killed in a car accident 12 years ago. And she hugged my dad and made some wise-crack about where he had put her shoes. And then she saw Him. And all was well.
As I recounted this experience to my mom this morning, we found that it happened within minutes of Grandma losing consciousness. She never responded again.
I am honored to call her my Grandma. I feel extraordinarily blessed to take after her physically. I am so glad that I made everyone sit still six weeks ago at the reunion, so that we could take a picture of her, my Grandpa, and my two sons. Cooper will have memories. Alex will not. But oh, he will know her. He will know what he has to live up to. As do I.
We love you Grandma Ada. Until we meet again.
There are (if I'm counting correctly) 95 people on this earth that carry a part of her in their veins. There are hundreds more who carry her in their hearts.
Last night, as I tried to sleep, I began to cry. A picture came so clearly to me of my Grandma entering a room. She was greeted boisterously. It was a long-awaited reunion. She smiled at my cousin Blaine, who died in a plane crash two years ago. She blew a kiss to Matt, my brother-in-law who succumbed to a brain tumor when I was 16. She waved to Cody, my cousin who was killed in a car accident 12 years ago. And she hugged my dad and made some wise-crack about where he had put her shoes. And then she saw Him. And all was well.
As I recounted this experience to my mom this morning, we found that it happened within minutes of Grandma losing consciousness. She never responded again.
I am honored to call her my Grandma. I feel extraordinarily blessed to take after her physically. I am so glad that I made everyone sit still six weeks ago at the reunion, so that we could take a picture of her, my Grandpa, and my two sons. Cooper will have memories. Alex will not. But oh, he will know her. He will know what he has to live up to. As do I.
We love you Grandma Ada. Until we meet again.