A day for memories

Memorial Day is usually a day for family, which is why my day home alone, painting our downstairs laundry room while my family was up at the cabin, felt a little strange.  By evening, I had reached a good stopping point, though, and was able to eat dinner and enjoy some family time over at my parents' house.  Val and Ben were there as well.  We visited on the backyard patio, and I soaked in the remains of the unofficial first day of summer.

At one point during the evening, my mom mentioned a photo she had forwarded to each of us of her aunt Donna's wedding.  I hadn't had a chance to see it, so I pulled it up on my phone and looked at my Grandma Tibbitts on one end of the photo and her mother, Great-grandma Davis, on the other end.  

I love looking at old photos of my grandma and am always struck by how beautiful and elegant she is.  Her maiden name was Betty Davis, and she really does have the look of a movie star in many of these photos.  Here are some others.

I've been looking at pictures of Grandma a lot lately.  This past April, she celebrated her 90th birthday with a big party up in Idaho, with family and friends traveling in to honor her.  Unfortunately, my family was on a trip across the country and was not able to attend, but I was grateful to receive an email describing the event, as well as a link to a collection of photos that were shared that day.  My cousin, Evan, was a fantastic photographer that day.

Last night, after I had returned home from my mom's and was helping kids get homework and projects ready for school, I was surprised to get a call from my mom.  She had just heard from her sister Joan that Grandma had suffered a stroke and was on her way to the hospital in Idaho Falls.  We didn't know much at that point, but about an hour later, my mom called back to report that Grandma had some hemorrhaging in her brain and that there was nothing doctors could do.  Her words echoed my own thoughts when she said that she was not prepared for this.  Mom drove up to Idaho Falls with my Aunt Lou Ann and Uncle Wade late last night and were with her through the night.  Uncle Evan and Aunt Joan were there, and they were waiting for Marsha and Myra so that Evan could give Grandma a blessing.  They felt that they would then let her go.  My mom let me know this morning that Grandma is still holding on, not responsive other than opening her eyes and holding their hand.  

It's a tender time.  My beautiful grandmother is there with her children, and I'm sure my grandpa is close behind the veil.  My mind is full of memories of a few years ago when I was able to witness a similar family circle around my grandpa before he died.  There were some things that were hard for me to watch that day, but the sweet peace of that room is one I will never forget.  I was touched to watch my mom and her siblings, my grandmother as she held Grandpa's hand and kissed his forehead.  I am grateful that my mom is able to be there right now, but I also ache for her.  

Right now I am somewhere between feeling at peace with this happening and feeling so so sad.  My tears flow as I think about not being able to see my grandmother's face and tell her I love her right now.  I cry as I think about not having been there to honor her in person on her birthday, and for not taking more trips up to Idaho with my kids.  In my mind, I enter her front door and smell her food and see her  either busy in the kitchen or sitting in her chair by the fireplace with the Idaho Falls newspaper.  I imagine her calm and knowing smile as my family fills her home with a higher level of excitement and noise.  I spin around and take in all the images that are all part of Grandma--the piano, the photos of her children and grandchildren, her sewing corner upstairs and her handiwork in every corner of her home. I'm not ready to hold these things as only memories.