Remembering My Grandma

February was a hard month for us. Although we rejoiced that both of our grandmothers could pass away so peacefully, it was still sad to say good-bye.

My grandma was spunky, boisterous and full of life. She loved people. She had a deep and abiding love of the gospel and felt like everyone would naturally want to know about it. She also had no fear. When we toured Europe together, she approached everyone she could. She would strike up a conversation regardless of what language they spoke. I would run after her trying to translate her comments as quick as I could. She just wanted to talk and get answers to her questions!

 

The last two years were hard on Grandma. My feisty grandma wasn’t used to being bed ridden. But she didn’t complain. She would always tell us, when we pressed her, that no one liked a complainer. She was just grateful for what she had, especially for her family.

Four sons and daughter-in-laws, twenty eight of the twenty nine grandchildren, many of her ninety-nine great-grandchildren, and some of her great-great grandchildren converged in Othello to pay their respects, to laugh and to remember a remarkable lady.

There are some great stories about my grandma. Stories that people would swear are tall tales, except we have so many witnesses that have cohobated the stories. Those stories just had to be told one last time, which meant there was a lot of laughing, and tears from laughing, at the funeral.

Probably, the best part of the funeral was at the cemetery. I noticed that there was something odd about my grandma’s name on the casket cover. When I got closer to examine it, I realized it wasn’t shadows playing tricks on me, they had transposed my grandma’s middle and last initials. I was worried how people would take the news, I didn’t want to upset my dad and uncles. After all, the casket covered would be buried and no one would see it then. I mumbled my discovery to Scott. My sister heard us whispering about something and insisted on knowing what it was. Well, word went down the family line. Soon my uncle, the oldest brother, was called over to see it. I held my breath. My dad and uncles aren’t ones to get irate, but they were burying their mom, which brings up a lot of emotions. To my surprise and relief, he gave a great farmer chuckle and called his brothers over to see. There was nothing that could be done to fix it. All that was left to do was laugh, and joke about what an unusual last name that would be, and joke that we like to “bury our mistakes.”  (And of course, we took pictures.)

I’m so glad my grandma taught us all how to laugh at the turns life gives us!

Before we left, we swung on the swing one last time. This is the swing set my grandpa made for her grandkids to play on. I swing on it every time I come to visit. I have so many happy memories of it. You can swing so high and it will never tip!

My dad even came outside and swung on the swing set with Lily! (None of us ever remember dad swinging on the swing set. He was always pushing us or doing “under dog” for us, but this time he decided to swing.)