Grandmother

I don't know where to start. This will be a hard one to write. 

My grandmother had been living with my aunt for the past year. Her health was up and down, but mostly OK, besides the oxygen tank that followed her around. When I got the message that she was in the hospital with pneumonia, none of us knew how it would end. Luckily, Travis and I were able to visit her the next day for a good hour. We stopped to get flowers first and I fussed over deciding which ones for way too long. But it occurred to me.. this might be the last thing I buy my Grandmother, and I wanted them to be beautiful. When we got there, she was cognizant and breathing fairly well. Having just read the memoir about her life, I brought up old stories and we laughed and commented on memories and times past. My Aunt Marcia was there and she'd add her two cents as she happily crocheted by the window. I got to sit next to Grandmother and hold her hand and have a real conversation with her. A couple of times she would make a point of looking at me in the eyes with such love and sincerity, telling me how special I was or how she loved me. Thinking back on it now, I can't believe that in her last normal hours, she still sought to offer someone else love, validity and care. In fact I can't think of it without crying. But that's Grandmother.

A part of me wanted to pour out my heart. To tell her how much I loved her. How much she had meant to me all my life. That I looked up to her and admired the strength and determination she'd exhibited from childhood to old age. I wanted to tell her that I wanted her to visit me still. To come and lift me on my hard days. To be with me on the happy ones. That I still needed her. Even after she was gone.

But I didn't say it. I felt strange uttering "last words" when I didn't know but that she'd bounce back and be around another year or more!

I was mad at myself later, but now it's OK. Some things probably don't have to be said out loud. She knew.

Right before we left, I asked Travis to take our picture. When I looked at it, I was initially bummed that she wasn't looking at the camera. Then my senses came to me and I fell in love with it. I couldn't have asked for a better, last picture with her. The way she is looking at me is the epitome of how she feels not just about me, but all her children and grandchildren. I don't know how she managed to convey, with solidarity, her whole heart to all 39 of us grandkids, but she did. We were her world. She always spoke with such loving kindness to us. Not like she never held her tongue on her opinions, but no mater what, I knew she loved us. Fiercely. Her life was about serving her family. We were priceless treasures to her and we felt it. 

And I think that's why the next day was so hard. When you know someone is taken from the earth that was always in your corner. Loved you unconditionally. Was your cheerleader on all fronts. 

That hurts. 

She had gone from the caregiver to the dependent, but even in that state she held her title. She was at the top of the Lindblom totem pole. Grandmother. Her love was still there and never wavered. And that being taken leaves a tangible void. 

Just a few hours after we left, Shelley and Casey went to visit her and I guess the scene we had left had changed dramatically. Her oxygen levels had sunk and her brain went into fight or flight mode. She had to be given a sedative and they didn't even get to visit with her. My dad was at Father's and Son's campout and came back immediately when he heard. From what I understand, she was unresponsive from that point on. The next morning, at Weston's t-ball game, we got the text to come immediately if you wanted to say goodbye. Her respiratory system was failing. Marcie and I hurried as fast as we could and walked in on a somber scene. The room was filled with aunts, uncles and cousins. Everyone had wet eyes and tissues. Grandmother didn't have the oxygen mask on anymore and she breathing laboriously, eyes closed. I held my phone to her ear so David, who was in California, could say goodbye. I whispered a last "Thank you" and "I love you" in her ear as well and kissed her on the cheek. Over the next hour or so, more cousins filtered in to say goodbye. My dad had driven back up to Father's and Sons early that morning and was speeding back. We all felt so relieved when he walked through the door. We all took turns holding her hand and speaking to each other in hushed tones. Her breaths started to have more space between them. My dad and his siblings gathered around her. It seemed like we were all holding our breath, waiting for her last one. Her pulse slowed then stopped. Almost imperceptibly.... she passed. I felt as though I was living someone else's life. This scene just did not fit in my projected life events. Somehow, I'm still learning what it means to age. As if everything should still be the same as though I am 15. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I didn't even know what to make of what had just happened. I had never seen someone die before. Processing it all was much harder than I anticipated. As her coloring started to fade we sang "Families Can Be Together Forever". Uncle Jim offered a prayer. And that was it. We slowly filtered from the room and tried to continue our day. I knew that I should be happy for her, but I felt too sad to be happy yet. 

Craig and Jenny. The last and the first grandchildren.

The funeral was planned for Thursday. With as big a family as we have, they told the Relief Society that we'd provide our own luncheon afterward. Self sufficient. Just like Grandmother. ;)

Soft tacos was on the menu with Grandmother's famous fried pies for dessert. Marcie, Shelley and I convened at Aunt Judy's house Tuesday night to learn how to make them.

Then Wednesday morning, Marcie and I whipped up 150 fried apple pies. Shelley made 100! It felt like my whole kitchen was coated in a fine layer of grease. We went through a huge tub of Crisco, Eek. 

The viewing was Wednesday night at Meldrum's mortuary in downtown Mesa. We were walking in at the same time as two strange, grey haired men when I suddenly realized... they were my cousins!!! They had moved to Washington when we were probably 10ish and we really hadn't seen them since. It was so fun to catch up. The whole night actually had a very happy tinge to it, getting to be with so much family. Seeing Grandmother in her casket was probably the least pleasant part. Other people thought she looked nice and I suppose in a way she did, but it wasn't her. It looked like some other lady. Not my Grandmother. Uncle Jim said the family prayer and they closed the casket.

The next morning at 8am we met at the Mesa cemetery to dedicate her grave.

This is obviously a bit backwards from the way people usually do it, but it turned out really nice! Everyone just milled around visiting and taking pictures, then Uncle Jim dedicated the grave and it was time to go!

We had some time before the funeral so Shelley made a Burrito Express stop and we all tailgated in the church parking lot. Muy bueno!

The service was in the church building I grew up going to. Lots of memories! Both of my parents also grew up going there. It's a stone's throw from the Mesa temple and used to be the heart of "Mormonville" in Mesa. Good ol' 9th ward! I loved hearing her life story. I think I had already heard most of the stories, but it was still fun to hear them again. My favorite was that when Grandmother and Granddad were dating, he took her to meet his mom for the first time and told her that his mother didn't like girls who wore red lipstick and blue jeans. So guess what she was wearing when he went to pick her up?! Yup, red lipstick and blue jeans! Ha! I love that so much. A streak of sass I kind of wish I had inherited. My dad's talk was PERFECT. Of course it couldn't have been anything else. He has always put his heart and soul into speaking. He told the story about when Grandmother was pregnant with her 5th child, David. She was 7th months along when she started hemorrhaging in church from placenta previa. (The very condition that took her mother AND Grandmother's lives.) My dad motioned to the pew in which she had been sitting. A man in the ward that was a doctor, knew how serious it was and ran to grab his car and bring it around to the doors. It was a brand new car and very fancy and Grandmother refused to get in it. She knew it would ruin the interior. Using a few bible expletives, he demanded she get in the car and then rushed her to the hospital where she ended up losing her baby two days later. My dad was emotional telling the story and it got me going as well. I think the most character revealing part of that story was that even after such a traumatic experience, she still had one more baby. My dad. Words don't begin to describe how special that woman is to me. 

Another memorable part was the musical number. Colby sang the most beautiful rendition of "I Often Go Walking." The composition was unique and her voice danced. At the very end she tenderly sang, "Dear Grandmother, all flowers, remind me of you." Oh my goodness. My heart!! It was something I'll never forget. 

I just loved seeing how many people came to her funeral. The chapel and cultural hall were completely filled. She affected a lot of lives. The most common adjective people used to describe Grandmother was "classy". It's SO true. She was also stubborn, hard working, independent, an excellent cook, a lover of nature, thrifty, clean (like, she Cloroxed her vegetables) and selfless. But the word she wore best of all... the title that really exemplified her every being, was that of Mother and Grandmother. 

My parents!

I'm on the far right and Marcie is on her lap. Shelley is between Grandmother and our cousin, Kate.

When Shelley and I were in YW, my dad arranged for us to learn how to make fried pies from Grandmother. 

Holding Collin for the first time.

This was one of my absolute FAVORITE pictures on display!! A 5 generation picture of the eldest daughters. 

I don't know if I'll be able to talk about her again without tearing up, but I'm so so grateful for my knowledge of eternal families. To know that she had the most joyful reunion with her husband, mother and son fills my heart to overflowing. She did everything she was asked to do and now she gets to enjoy her reward! Motivation for all of us. :) I'm so excited for the next time I get to see her.

Until then, I love you, Grandmother!!

Peace out. :)