It's a favorite phrase in my husband's family and one that has been around longer than me so I don't know where it started (something about a favorite book) but it's our phrase. Red was Gram's favorite color, the matriarch and quiet strength of our large, loving, talented and incredible family. Her health had been deteriorating for the past several years. Since I married in, over seven years ago, she had always been wheel chair bound and at our large family gatherings, she sat in her favorite red chair, content to watch the antics, supervise the going-ons and listen to the music and noise that always accompany us.
Two weeks ago, an infection took her to the hospital and as many times before, her spirit rallied. But this time, her body could not. She was sent home on hospice where we would spend a few lingering days with her. What precious time! Family gathered, singing and storytelling. And soon she "stepped gracefully into eternity". (quote borrowed from her beautifully written obituary). I think it was her last gift, to give us a few more days to prepare ourselves, call family together and delight in the stories and music that bind this family together.
She passed away last Wednesday. My husband and his dad were away on a business trip. It had been a tough decision for them to go but their goodbyes had been said and Gram would have insisted. Thursday, I took the girls to play at my brother's house so I could go with Husband's mom to visit the Aunties and see what we could do to help. We put ourselves to work and being useful always makes me feel better. I love being with these strong, incredible, flavorful women. I love their rich personalities, their strength and depth, their humor and their talents.
On Friday, I attended GroupKick training. That set me up for a rollarcoaster weekend and it felt strange to feel so exhilarated and have so much fun at training and then to step back into my home life, of a shared subdued grief. But truthfully, I think had she been able, a younger Gram would have trained along with me just for the fun of it. After Friday's training, I returned home to a house full of people. Husband was home, his parents were there, as well as his brother and his family who had just arrived and the girls were full of energy and excitement at the chance to play with their cousin. We got some food and played all evening, even roasting s'mores in our backyard.
Saturday was a repeat: intense training followed by another evening with family. And Sunday won for the most choatic (and emotional rollarcoaster) of all. I went to training and then dashed home to shower and ready for church. It was our annual visiting teaching conference which was wonderful for me as one of the sisters, but for Husband meant he was in charge of the Primary (so the sisters who were normally in Primary would be free to attend the conference). So I took Lovely to the conference with me while Husband played Primary leader. As soon as church ended, we loaded the girls in the car and drove north. Gram and Auntie L (my daughter's namesake) have been companions for many years and their beautiful home was host to the viewing that evening. A neighbor and dear family friend offered to host the family dinner at her house so we were able to eat there and then join the rest of the family at Gram's house for the viewing. Our girls were pretty wound up and eagerly and excitedly played with cousins all night. My parents also attended the viewing to offer the condolences (and see the girls) and eventually we headed home.
Throughout the weekend, I thought to myself about the various funerals I've attended. There are typically varying levels of grief and sometimes even an overwhelming sadness. But this weekend really was a celebration of Gram's life. I hope that everyone had the opportunity to grieve the way they needed to, and certainly tears were shed all weekend long. But for the most part, we held tight to our faith and belief in a joyous afterlife where we would be reunited with our Savior, with other loved ones and that our bodies would be restored to perfect health. So we leaned on our faith, acknowledged extra appreciation for our time with her and did exactly what she wanted--we celebrated her life.
Monday morning we gathered for family pictures. Everyone was able to make it except one cousin, currently serving a mission (and Husband's brother who passed away several years ago in an accident). The family picture will be undoubtedly beautiful with our large family gathered. As a tribute to Gram, we all wore our splashes of red and it made quite a striking sight. (red is best!) During the viewing and funeral, the women from the church arranged for a nursery so the girls got to play while Lovely napped. She slept through the family prayer but awoke right after so she spent most of the funeral in the nursery as well.
Emotion is a peculiar thing. And when I'm busy chasing my girls (or wearing out my muscles at training), it's actually easy for me to set emotion aside and take care of what needs to be done. But with the girls playing happily in the nursery, I could feel it creep in. But grief is good in that it is cleansing, so it came as I sat through the funeral, listening to the beautiful tributes, done with love, humor and especially song. It was a wonderful experience, with many family members sharing. Each of the sisters offered a trait that described Gram, accompanied with stories. Two of our cousins got to speak on behalf of the grandkids. There were several songs preformed, sometimes joined by a few family members, sometimes even the whole congregation. It was reverent and joyous, full of affection, respect, humor and love.
Husband was one of the pallbearers to help carry the pine casket, beautifully crafted by the grandsons (no one would have guessed it wasn't "professional"). They loaded it into the hearse, drawn by horses. And then after a brief collection of children, we were able to do a one-mile procession. The pallbearers and most of the family walked behind the horses and hearse. I was lucky enough to be the first car that followed (having felt like our kids wouldn't do well on such a long walk in the 90 degree weather) and it was an incredibly moving sight. The respectful solemnity was interspersed with some teasing the ladies about their heels, the men making a quick dash to throw their suit coats into my car, or a friend who thoughtfully stood halfway down the road with an armful of water bottles.
At the cemetery, Husband's dad offered the grave dedication and all of the grandkids were encouraged to take a rose with them.
Then we headed to the luncheon, where the aunties had ordered Gram's favorite--Winger's and Chick-fil-a. The sisters from the church accompanied it with sides and dessert for a fantastic meal. We feasted and then the girls, who really had been quiet and well behaved for much longer than any 2 and 4 year old is used to, were ready to run and play. So we took a drive, ran some errands and let them nap for awhile.
The last event of the day was a musical tribute, a backyard concert. Two of Gram's children are professional singers, recorded songwriters and artists who led the evening, with a few special numbers from less professional but abundantly talented cousins. We listened to the music, chuckled at memories and commented quietly to cousins and friends through the beautiful evening. My girls eagerly ran to sit on the blankets up front with the other kids. They played quietly, also enjoying the music. Butterfly began passing out hugs, starting with a few cousins her age, then moving onto the nearby adults, sincerely asking, "Do you need a hug too?" And once she got started, she simply continued moving down the row. She reached the end of the row, stepped to the next one and started again. She was sweet and sincere and not a single person turned her down. Eventually, after most rows had at least one hug and some rows had gotten four, she was becoming less sincere and more silly, having realized that everyone thought she was adorable. So I reluctantly stopped her, worried she was distracting people from the performances. But then her and sister discovered the table of candy and treats at the back of the crowd and she happily ran off again.
It was a wonderful day. A somber occasion and a great loss from this world but we celebrated as she wanted.
And as one last formal tribute (since the way we live our lives is a lasting one), we visited the cemetery near our home where Husband's brother was buried. We took one of Gram's roses to place at his headstone and Butterfly shared a tender moment with Grandpa, her tiny hands offering comfort to him when he needed it.
And then as Gram would have said, "now let's all go get a little bowl of ice cream". So we did.
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