I have felt the need to write down my feelings of the passing of one of my best friends and grandmother. It was not a shock and we were all praying that her passing would be soon to ease her suffering, but I don't think I can fully grasp yet that I will not hear her voice or see her again for a very long time.
It is hard for me to express in words all of the wonderful memories that I have with her. I have to say that some of my very earliest memories are of her and Grandpa and staying with them on the Rife Place. I do have one very vivid memory that I hold dear to my heart. I am about six years old at the time and I had been anxiously awaiting her and Grandpa's arrival to our ranch in Dillon. I am sitting on the back porch and then I see the old brown "boat" pull into the driveway. As she makes her way into the door I run eagerly into her arms. She picks me up and laughs at my excitement to see her. I then plead with her to tell me my favorite story of "Epandimonos" right then and there. Being the person that she was, she put everything on hold to tell me that story. As I think of that memory I can vividly hear her voice, the way that she uniquely adds the character voices and her expressions. Even after all these years I can still see her in my minds eye like I am there again.
I also can see myself and my older brother Mike sitting at the kitchen table anxiously waiting for the "custard pies" to come out of the oven that she baked for us. I can still smell the yummy aroma filling the kitchen, for I loved anything that she cooked.
I can see myself sitting next to her at church and studying her hands. Then I reach down with my little fingers and stretch out her "stretchy watch" band to keep myself occupied. After I am bored with that she acts out "this is the church" and "This is Mommy's knives and forks" with her hands. Then the organ starts to play and I hear her whisper the words in my ear so I can pretend that I am big and sing with everyone else. Then I hear her beautiful alto voice sing harmony with the hymn.
Then I take myself to a long dirt road and we are going on our daily walk. We listen to the birds and talk about all that we see. Then we skip and sing "Zippidee Do Dah". We pick a big rock to sit on to rest and then we decide to head back to the house to see what Grandpa and my brother Mike are doing.
I then see myself at the table with her and Mike and we are playing fish and then after that it will be a game of Old Maid. It would then be time to go and I would run to her row of shoes to play "shoe store" to see which shoe she would pick to wear. We are in the car and we play "I spy and I went to the grocery store".
Time goes by and many more memories are made and then I see myself as a nervous bride all dressed up waiting to walk down the aisle. Then she walks in the room to gives me a good luck hug and says "Can you still be my Miss Bear even though you will be a Mrs."
More time goes by and I make that special phone call from my hospital bed four times in my life to tell her that "It's another boy". I hear her laugh and say "When is Sadie coming?"(Sadie was the name we picked for every baby if it had been a girl and she loved that name).
Then our visits are few and far between but when my husband and I head through Utah we make that familiar journey through Richmond and pull up to the little pink house. I excitedly get out of the car because I know that she will be there at the door to give me a hug. I go inside and I am comforted by the familiar smell of their home. I walk around and every thing is right where it was the last time I came there. I find comfort in things staying the same. I watch her play and talk with my boys just as she used to do with me. In the morning I hear her and Grandpa up early and her in the kitchen putting breakfast on the table. We then pack up our things and say a goodbye. With each goodbye I notice that she is getting weaker and it is harder for her and Grandpa to walk down the steps and watch us leave and wave a final goodbye.
I take my sons fishing a couple of months ago like her and my mom used to take me, but we have no luck at catching anything and I stop and think of her and wish she was there to help us. I load up the fishing gear with two disappointed boys and head for home. As soon as we get home, I call her to tell her about our day. She says that she wishes that she could have been there too. I hang up the phone not knowing that that would be our last phone call.
It is a few months later and we make that all too familiar trek through Richmond but we don't stop at the little pink house. We keep on driving to Logan and park at the rest home parking lot. As I walk into the building I am anxious to see her. I go down the hall to her room and see her sleeping in her bed. No longer can she give me a hug because her arms will no longer move. Her eyes light up and she says" There's my Ker" I pull up a chair and choke back the tears that start to come. It hurt so much to see her this way. All my life she has always been so healthy and strong, and know she is small and weak laying in the hospital bed. She looks at me for a long time and then she asks where David and the boys are. I proudly take my sons into see her. She can't say much but she looks at each of them and says they are getting big. She asks to see the baby and we put Luke next to her. I can tell that there is so much she wants to say but she can't so she tries to talk to us through her eyes. With her all too familiar sense of humor she looks up at my husband and asks "Do you still like her". Then David and the boys leave and I ask her if she wants me to play my fiddle for her like I had done so many times. She nods her head yes and then I start playing the familiar songs that she loved. I can tell this brings her comfort. I finally decide that it is time for me to go. I reach out to hold her hand and she says that she wants to be home. I tell her I know and that we were all praying for her and that she needed to have the faith that she would be able to go home. I tell her that she is the one of the people who taught me about faith and she answers yes. I lean down and kiss her cheek and tell her I love her and that she has been a good grandma. I walk out the door knowing that I would probably never her see her at the door of the little pink house again. I will never see her standing in the kitchen with her calico apron making supper at the stove. I won't be able to sit with her again in the living room and have one of our many chats or play a round of the Pollyanna game, but as I drive away I know in my heart that I will see her again. I know that she has lived a good life. I know that Heavenly Father has other things for her to do and I know that when my time comes to be with her again I will find myself walking down a long dirt road towards a big farmhouse. There will be a river running past it with a little bridge to cross it. I will look in the field and see my Grandpa riding home on his horse and when I get to the barnyard I will look for her and she will be down by the river, sitting by the bank with her pant legs rolled up and she will be cooling her feet in the water. She will smile and wave to me and I will walk over to her. She will say "Hello Miss Bear, it's been I long time, but you made it" Then she will cast in a line and say "Let's see if we can catch something for dinner."
Memories are a blessing and the Lord's way of helping us let go. I have lost both of my Grandma's now that I loved so much. I know that I will rely on memories like this throughout the next years to comfort me when I miss both of them.
I know that I will have many moments when I will go to pick up the phone to call her just so I can hear her voice. But I will have to remember that she is in a better place now. That she is with all of her loved ones. That she is with our Savior and that she can walk again, and sing again and laugh again. I know this because she taught me this.
It is hard for me to express in words all of the wonderful memories that I have with her. I have to say that some of my very earliest memories are of her and Grandpa and staying with them on the Rife Place. I do have one very vivid memory that I hold dear to my heart. I am about six years old at the time and I had been anxiously awaiting her and Grandpa's arrival to our ranch in Dillon. I am sitting on the back porch and then I see the old brown "boat" pull into the driveway. As she makes her way into the door I run eagerly into her arms. She picks me up and laughs at my excitement to see her. I then plead with her to tell me my favorite story of "Epandimonos" right then and there. Being the person that she was, she put everything on hold to tell me that story. As I think of that memory I can vividly hear her voice, the way that she uniquely adds the character voices and her expressions. Even after all these years I can still see her in my minds eye like I am there again.
I also can see myself and my older brother Mike sitting at the kitchen table anxiously waiting for the "custard pies" to come out of the oven that she baked for us. I can still smell the yummy aroma filling the kitchen, for I loved anything that she cooked.
I can see myself sitting next to her at church and studying her hands. Then I reach down with my little fingers and stretch out her "stretchy watch" band to keep myself occupied. After I am bored with that she acts out "this is the church" and "This is Mommy's knives and forks" with her hands. Then the organ starts to play and I hear her whisper the words in my ear so I can pretend that I am big and sing with everyone else. Then I hear her beautiful alto voice sing harmony with the hymn.
Then I take myself to a long dirt road and we are going on our daily walk. We listen to the birds and talk about all that we see. Then we skip and sing "Zippidee Do Dah". We pick a big rock to sit on to rest and then we decide to head back to the house to see what Grandpa and my brother Mike are doing.
I then see myself at the table with her and Mike and we are playing fish and then after that it will be a game of Old Maid. It would then be time to go and I would run to her row of shoes to play "shoe store" to see which shoe she would pick to wear. We are in the car and we play "I spy and I went to the grocery store".
Time goes by and many more memories are made and then I see myself as a nervous bride all dressed up waiting to walk down the aisle. Then she walks in the room to gives me a good luck hug and says "Can you still be my Miss Bear even though you will be a Mrs."
More time goes by and I make that special phone call from my hospital bed four times in my life to tell her that "It's another boy". I hear her laugh and say "When is Sadie coming?"(Sadie was the name we picked for every baby if it had been a girl and she loved that name).
Then our visits are few and far between but when my husband and I head through Utah we make that familiar journey through Richmond and pull up to the little pink house. I excitedly get out of the car because I know that she will be there at the door to give me a hug. I go inside and I am comforted by the familiar smell of their home. I walk around and every thing is right where it was the last time I came there. I find comfort in things staying the same. I watch her play and talk with my boys just as she used to do with me. In the morning I hear her and Grandpa up early and her in the kitchen putting breakfast on the table. We then pack up our things and say a goodbye. With each goodbye I notice that she is getting weaker and it is harder for her and Grandpa to walk down the steps and watch us leave and wave a final goodbye.
I take my sons fishing a couple of months ago like her and my mom used to take me, but we have no luck at catching anything and I stop and think of her and wish she was there to help us. I load up the fishing gear with two disappointed boys and head for home. As soon as we get home, I call her to tell her about our day. She says that she wishes that she could have been there too. I hang up the phone not knowing that that would be our last phone call.
It is a few months later and we make that all too familiar trek through Richmond but we don't stop at the little pink house. We keep on driving to Logan and park at the rest home parking lot. As I walk into the building I am anxious to see her. I go down the hall to her room and see her sleeping in her bed. No longer can she give me a hug because her arms will no longer move. Her eyes light up and she says" There's my Ker" I pull up a chair and choke back the tears that start to come. It hurt so much to see her this way. All my life she has always been so healthy and strong, and know she is small and weak laying in the hospital bed. She looks at me for a long time and then she asks where David and the boys are. I proudly take my sons into see her. She can't say much but she looks at each of them and says they are getting big. She asks to see the baby and we put Luke next to her. I can tell that there is so much she wants to say but she can't so she tries to talk to us through her eyes. With her all too familiar sense of humor she looks up at my husband and asks "Do you still like her". Then David and the boys leave and I ask her if she wants me to play my fiddle for her like I had done so many times. She nods her head yes and then I start playing the familiar songs that she loved. I can tell this brings her comfort. I finally decide that it is time for me to go. I reach out to hold her hand and she says that she wants to be home. I tell her I know and that we were all praying for her and that she needed to have the faith that she would be able to go home. I tell her that she is the one of the people who taught me about faith and she answers yes. I lean down and kiss her cheek and tell her I love her and that she has been a good grandma. I walk out the door knowing that I would probably never her see her at the door of the little pink house again. I will never see her standing in the kitchen with her calico apron making supper at the stove. I won't be able to sit with her again in the living room and have one of our many chats or play a round of the Pollyanna game, but as I drive away I know in my heart that I will see her again. I know that she has lived a good life. I know that Heavenly Father has other things for her to do and I know that when my time comes to be with her again I will find myself walking down a long dirt road towards a big farmhouse. There will be a river running past it with a little bridge to cross it. I will look in the field and see my Grandpa riding home on his horse and when I get to the barnyard I will look for her and she will be down by the river, sitting by the bank with her pant legs rolled up and she will be cooling her feet in the water. She will smile and wave to me and I will walk over to her. She will say "Hello Miss Bear, it's been I long time, but you made it" Then she will cast in a line and say "Let's see if we can catch something for dinner."
Memories are a blessing and the Lord's way of helping us let go. I have lost both of my Grandma's now that I loved so much. I know that I will rely on memories like this throughout the next years to comfort me when I miss both of them.
I know that I will have many moments when I will go to pick up the phone to call her just so I can hear her voice. But I will have to remember that she is in a better place now. That she is with all of her loved ones. That she is with our Savior and that she can walk again, and sing again and laugh again. I know this because she taught me this.
2 comments:
Keri I am so sorry for the loss of your grandma ut know that it is so good that she no longer has to suffer. Isn't it great to know that we can be with our loved ones again. p.s. you will make everyone who reads this cry.
I hope your trip is good and that you hav a nice time with your family.
Keri, I loved reading your memories, they are very similar to my memories of grandma. Your words made me cry! I will miss grandma, too, and all the fun times we used to have. Thanks so much for your tribute, I really enjoyed reading it.
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