For my Grandma

A little over a week ago, July 30 to be precise, my last surviving grandparent passed away. Grandma Genevieve (my mother's mother) was an incredibly sweet woman who always had a smile and a kind word for everyone. While I wasn't able to attend, I heard from those who did that her funeral was packed with people from far and wide to say goodbye to their friend. What I remember best about her is her garden. As long as her health allowed her, and often even when it didn't, Grandma was out in that garden, planting, weeding, watering, gathering. I loved eating what came out of that garden; everything was so full of flavour, so the way all fruits and vegetables should taste. I often made a lunch of tomatoes and cucumbers, lightly salted. Ymm!

My Grandma was kind of like her garden. There was nothing artificial about her, she was a genuinely lovely person, and everyone that knew her was better for it.

I don't have a lot of experience with death, and my feelings on the subject are all a jumble.  That's why it's taken me so long to write about this; I had to sort it all out.  This is what I've come up with:  First, I'm sad, because I'm essentially a selfish person and I'll miss her.  Second, I'm somewhat relieved.  The last few weeks, and maybe years, of her life were not pleasant for her, and it's good to know that she's not in pain anymore.  Third, I'm happy.  Happy that my grandma's dead?  Not exactly.  I'm full of joy and gratitude beacuse I know the Plan; I know our loving Heavenly Father has a place for her.  Death is not the end.  I'll see my grandma again.

Genevieve as a young woman

Grandma is at the back left, my mother in the middle

Left to right:  My dad, me, Isabella, my mother, and Grandma, only weeks before she died