Rememberances...

My mom just went back to the land of warm weather the other day after having a nice long visit here with our family. Every time she leaves my boys get a little sad and anxious for her leaving and long for the time when she will be returning. All the talk of "Grandma and Grandpa" moving around the country gave me pause...as some may know my sweet Grandmother died in November of 2010. I think as my boys have been growing and birthdays pass for me I think have been preparing myself for the enevitable passing of Grandma and Grandpa. As I have gotten older they seem to age exponentially every time I visit. I think I was preparing myself for what the future would bring. Obviously, it is inevitable passing on of our bodies when we die, but the soul never dies. But I really didn't take that into account when preparing for their passing... the soul never dies. Sure, I cried...a lot for a day or two, but then, I began to remember...
I was the first grandchild for nearly 6 years. No one else but me. My mom's parents lived close and my mom was so young when I was born that I spent a lot of time growing up in my grandparents house. Don't get me wrong, I was home with my parents, but once I was old enough to fend for myself, I was there A LOT! I wanted to be there. It wasn't chaotic or angry there. I felt safe and at peace in the house my mom grew up in. My mom's youngest sister was just 6 years older than me and that was like having a big sister all to myself. Robyn was good to me. Not like a sister, but like an aunt...really, like a friend.
That house would bustle with energy all the time. Grama was busy from morning to night with everything. I have fond memories of shopping with her when she would still drive the Torino. We would go up and down each isle getting all the things she needed, looking at the prices, finding the right things. She had a long list and I would help her. I felt useful and needed when I was with her. She taught me so much about being in the kitchen. I would watch her cook or bake and I fell in love with the kitchen. It was the center of the Light family universe. Everything happened in the kitchen. Great Grandma Mac and Great Grandma Fern would play cards at the table in the kitchen, the food for gatherings would be there in the kitchen dining room, everyone wanted to be in the kitchen chatting. It was the biggest room in the house...or it felt like it. I can remember every little detail about the house to this day. They moved from there in 1980 to Pendleton Oregon, but that house in Normandy Park is etched in my brain. I can walk there in my mind. I dream of going back to that house all the time.
The yard was beautiful out back. Peaceful, green and lush with hydrangeas and ivy and a huge tree right in the center. My grandpa put up a swing in that tree for me. Oh my word how I loved to escape out into the back yard and be alone and safe. My own secret garden of sorts. There was a Mother's cottage out back connected to the garage that my great Grandma Fern lived in for a time before returning to Wyoming. The Gregory Heights swim pool was behind the house and I could hear the kids having fun in the pool all summer long...I wanted to be there having fun with them.
The garage was my grandpa's laboratory. He would spend hours out there working on cars and building stuff. I can still smell the motor oil and gas to this day. There was a small walkway from the back door of the house out into a gravel area where there might be a car or two, the dogs, Stinger and Fredrick and of course Poo. I would sit on the stoop out back with my grandpa and feed the dogs peanuts and crackers at happy hour.
You'd walk in the back door and the laundry was to the left a tiny bathroom to the right and a short hallway. At the hallway end was a room on the left, which I often slept in, and when you turn right, there was the kitchen. After happy hour with the dogs we would walk in and the smells of dinner would be filling the house. Wonderful smells...pot roast with carrots and potatoes, salad and bread, one of my personal favorites. When it was just a small crowd we would eat at the kitchen table. It sat under a large window that looked out to the street. I loved that house. I wish I could raise my family in that house. It was perfect for our family then and it would be now. I drive by it in my mind now a lot. With my grandpa still alive at 92, missing my grandma so, I think about all the years there a lot. I loved to sit on his lap while he was watching football. I think that is one of the reasons why I love sports so much. I loved that when I would come rushing in the front door and he was home in his chair he would gently grab me by my braids and pull me to him and tell me he loved me and sit me on his lap. He was a big man, a strong man almost larger than life to me sometimes. He was a hunter, a fisherman and an pilot for United Airlines. He flew in the Army during WWII and I still love to hear stories about his times during the war. He tells a great story. Never once was I afraid of him. I had and still have enormous amounts of respect for my grandparents. They always respected me, why should I not return that respect. They made it so easy.
I am a little afraid to see him now...I am afraid I would be too sad. Missing grandma I know had been hurting him a lot. I cannot even imagine how much it hurts to be the one left behind. Everyday must seem endless...I hurt for him in that. I wish they could still be together. I wish they could have gone to Heaven together. Gram is up there waiting for him...beautiful and elegant, healthy and full of life. No more crippled fingers from arthritis and no more cancers and walking troubles. I wish my grandpa peace and rest. He has lived such a long life, 92 beautiful full years. He has given SO much to everyone. Gram and grandpa gave whatever they could and then some...so generous and loving and kind. My mom and I have talked about this a lot. Why don't we feel so sad about Grandma going to heaven so quickly without being about to say goodbye first. Well, this is my answer to you mom...

Death is a reminder for those who are left behind of what was beautiful about a life well spent. While painful to say goodbye, Grandma and Grandpa's lives have been well spent...deeply invested in the importance of family. That is why we cannot cry too much about this. All those hours spent at the table playing cards, watching football games, shooting off Tennis ball cannons in the back yard, those times were the beauty of a life well spent. Both of there lives were well spent loving their family, caring for their neighbors and leaving lasting impressions on the future generations of our family. When Grandpa goes to heaven and meets Grandma at those Pearly Gates I pray God will bless me with a duck call. Weird I know...but as a girl, Grandpa would bring out his calls and blow them softly in my ear. I love that sound. To this day, whenever I hear a duck I think of him like it was yesterday... sitting on his lap with Grandma in the kitchen, smells of pot roast filling the house, and Lawrence Welk playing on the TV. Those moments and hours with family...that is a life well spent. The times I spent with them made me what I am today, I hope I make them proud.