I generally don't like to blog about sad things. I don't like to share my troubles with the entire interweb. But this seems more important than my usual frivolous worries.
Last week, my wonderful Grandma passed away after a wonderful 93 year long life. I'm not as good of a writer as Lindsay, so it's hard for me to do justice to this loving woman. Impossible even. But she enriched everyone's lives she ever touched. No one I've talked to can ever remember her committing a harsh act or speaking an unkind word. I know I can't. Every time we went to visit she would fill to the brim with smiles and run to the kitchen for ice cream. Even being as old as she was, she would always find feed us rather than having us feed ourselves. In fact, at times the way she fed us was a bit hard to swallow (Vinegar spinach salad anyone?) Sometimes she'd try so hard to make me comfortable I felt bad ("Do you want some strawberries?" "No thanks, Grandma. I'm fine." "I'll cut some up for you!" "Uh...I don't need them cut up." "They taste better that way *cuts up strawberries*" "Oh...thanks" "How about some melon?" "No thanks." "I'll cut some up for you")
One thing that always shocked me about my Grandma was the way her mind never dimmed in the least. At 93 years old, she put my memory to shame. I remember the time she was talking to Michelle about college. She proceeded to list every class she took her first semester of college. When she couldn't remember one, she exclaimed "I know there was one more...my mind is really going!" ...I can't remember the classes I took last semester.
The point of my rambling is that Grandma was the kindest woman I'd ever met. Every moment of her life was spent in service of others. She selflessly gave everything she had if she could just make one person a bit happier.
On Monday my friends and I went to see Up, Pixar's new movie (by the way, Up is amazing. One of the best movies I've seen in years). My sister warned me that there was a death of an old woman in the beginning, but because it was the last time my group would get together, I decided I couldn't miss it. I was suspecting the death. I wasn't suspecting how beautifully it would be done. I was in tears long before we ever saw the coffin. The montague of this couple's life reminded me so strongly of my Grandma and Grandpa.
For most people, a love like the one Ellie and Carl Fredrickson shared is only the kind that exists in movies. But for Clara and Arvid Dodge, it was real. Every time I saw them, they were together. They laughed with eachother, danced with eachother, and helped eachother with everything. If they were apart, then both of them would be waiting patiently for the time they'd be together again. Thanks to the Plan of Salvation, that's the case now. The parting is only temporary, and both of them know it and are waiting patiently for their reunion.
I love my Grandma more than words can express. I'm so grateful for the truth of the gospel so that I know I'll be sitting on her lap listening to her fascinating stories soon again.
And I can't wait.
