He was right.

Two weeks ago, tomorrow... my grandmother died.  A week ago today was her funeral.  I haven't written about it yet because it is still swirling around in my head...

I knew when I saw her last that I would not see her again... Those are hard good-byes... While she was not a part of my daily life in the way that she was a part of my aunts' daily lives... her influence on me, on my life has been huge. 

At her funeral I was, of course, emotional.  I tried not to be... but not long after getting out of my truck at the funeral home after following Dad and Betty... I heard my father thank my Uncle Allen, who was standing in the parking lot, for all he did for 'Mum.'  And Dad's voice cracked a little and that's all it took to get me going.  Allen married one of my Dad's sisters.  They live close to my grandmother's house and as things worked out, Allen was the one who did snow removal, mowing, and other maintenence chores on Grammie's house. My Dad and his brother also helped when they were able, but since Allen lived closest he took on that responsibility.  Allen was one of the kids to my grandmother... Dad has so appreciated Allen's help for Grammie over the years... and I know how much that help meant to Grammie, Dad, and the rest of the family...

I remember Mom used to talk about how she would get through funerals... by looking at the ceiling, counting things in the room, biting her lip or cheek... and I found myself doing all of those things... We got to the funeral home about an hour and a half before the funeral was supposed to start, a chance for the immediate family to have a last viewing of their loved one... and to arrange things, such as pictures, for the service.  My Dad's two sisters were already there when we walked into the room where the funeral was going to be held... blue carpet... rows of chairs on either side of the aisle...the open casket at the front of the room... Betty asked me if I wanted her to go up there with me and I ust shook my head no... I was frozen for a minute... couldn't move... then greeted my aunts and saw Dad was heading to the casket... and something in me had to join him... seeing him alone or about to be alone saying his final good bye to his mother set something off inside me... and I joined him at Grammie's side... She didn't look like her... she was wearing a blue dress she had chosen herself, as the dress she wanted to be buried in... the dress she wore at her 50th wedding anniversary party... there were flowers of course... a lot of carnations, her favorite... after Dad and I stood there rubbing each other's backs we moved away from the casket and I decided I needed something to do to keep busy... so I went to see if I could help with the photographs they were putting up... my Aunt Sharon had picked out pictures to display... and I looked at them... many of her life before I was a part of it... she looked so young... one picture, maybe her senior picture, showed her with curly hair... and it made me smile... I have very very curly hair... ringlets that are often out of control.. Grammie loved my curls... so much so that I would often try to wear my hair down when I would see her... I get my curls from my grandfather.... Grammie's hair was not naturally curly, but always has worn it with curls...

I watched Sharon as she put up more pictures and she put one up of Grammie walking away from the camera in her yard, bent forward holding the hand of my oldest nephew, then about two... sidde by side... and that picture really got to me... the adoration Grammie had for kids... her kids, her grandkids, great grandkids...and the newest great great grandson... always made her smile.. she loved getting pictures of the boys from Sis... some pictures would make her chuckle out loud...

After recovering from that surge of emotions, I took two fairly large bags to the front of the room, near the casket... in them were two of the quilts Grammie had made... I took them out of the bags and draped them over the two chairs that had been placed there for this purpose... Grammie made the best quilts... for all of us... I have several, all of which I treasure and have used to the point where they are warn... Quilts over which I am very protective... in college I came home from class one day to find my roommate wrapped up in one of my Grammie quilts and let's just say that did not happen again.  Those were off limits to other people... The beautiful work she did on her quilts... the hours of stiching by machine and by hand... the love she put into them... amazing...

As time passed other people began coming in and as Grammie had requested, the casket was closed for the service.  Many people came... I was surprised by the number of people there... not because I questioned the impact she had on people's lives, on her community, but because she was 93.. and outlived many of her friends and family.... and in my mind I didn't think there would be too many people her age able to come to the service.  About 125 people attended... ranging in ages...

Seeing her sister Louise go to the casket was hard... I was afriad she was going to collapse...and she just cried... and then sat down... her other sister, Glenice, came in and I hugged her... and a few people gathered around us and she asked... "What am I going to do now? Who's gonna be the boss of me?"  I know there was some attempt at lightening up the situation by her comment.. but also know the truth in it... Grammie was the oldest of five... she had seen her only brother and one of her sisters die before her... and she kept track of all of them...

Most of my cousins are just enough older than my sister and I so that we didn't really grow up together... we were the little kids at family functions... I felt closest to Danny and one other cousin, Karen.  Seeing both of them upset also got to me...

Some family friends came that meant a lot to me... some people from the campground and some people from our town who have been close with Mom and Dad as long as I can remember...

The service itslef was hard to get through... I didn't care much for the minister... she was the minister that had been serving Grammie's church for the last few years... with whom Grammie never seemed impressed... She was asked to keep it short and simple... she spoke of Grammie's life... as a wife, sister, mother, grandmother, and great grandmother... and as she forgot, many in the attendance said, and great great grandson... I counted 33 folds in the curtain that hung behind Grammie's casket...

After the service there was a reception with food... it was a chance to talk to family members who we usually see at Thanksgiving and some we don't... some approached me and said they remembered me when I was a child and asked if I was still as busy as ever... busy as in involved with so many things... busy... yeah, I guess I stay busy... My cousin's wife came up to me and chatted for a bit.  She told me that she wanted to come and tell me that the picture of Grammie that was on the board, the one that I thought may have been her senior picture... reminded her of me... that I have some of Grammie;s features... What a sweet thing to say.. When I looked at the picture I had thought how beautiful Grammie was in it... and to resemble her is an honor...

I heard people talking about Thanksgiving... people saying that we must continue the tradition... I am very hopeful that it will continue... it is my favorite holiday... though this year it will be tough... there will be an obvious empty seat... another empty seat... at our tables...

After mingling and having some food... my Uncle Allen came to tell my Dad that it was time... time for the processional.. to go to the cemetary... I had already told Dad that I was not going ot go to the cemetary... and he told me it was okay... that he understood... but that was one of the hardest parts of the day.. not going... because at that moment I had to say good bye to Dad... and knew he was about to bury his mother, next ot his father... and I was not strong enough to participate... still now, that upsets me... not that I didn't go... but that it was not something I could bring myself to do... I just couldn't... I know one of my aunts wanted me to go... and I just said I wasn't going... and when she asked why I just shook my head.. and her husband said, "She can't handle it." 

She can't handle it.  He was right. 

I know that Grammie would have been okay with me not going to the cemetary... I am not good in cemetaries... Have only been to my mother's grave once... my grandfather's, on my mother's side, once, maybe twice, and never to my Dad's father's grave... I know going to a burial is something I will not be able to avoid forever... but... I just couldn't...

I felt bad that day too, because Dad was worried about me... seeing me upset, knowing I was trying to hold things back... and I did not want to add more stress to his day...

It also hit me that day... again... my single-ness...all but one of my cousins are married... with families... and there I was... just another moment in which I wish I wasn't single... but that's another story...

Grammie's funeral was a way to honor her life... and I think it did... but I think that her life is honored every day, by the way she raised her family... the closeness that is shared.. the love that exists... She truly was an amazing person... and I hope I honor her daily in the way I live my life.