Here and Gone

I haven't posted for a while.  

I skipped over Thanksgiving, overwhelmed by all the things I'm thankful for.

I was too busy for Christmas.  Too busy having fun to pick up the camera.

We traveled South for New Years, and found there was more snow and colder temperatures there.  More fun and family too though.

We came back, bringing the cold with us (and the colds that inevitably come when large groups assemble for the holidays).

Then, my grandma died.

I wasn't going to go at first.  I don't care for funerals, and it's a long trip to L.A.. How could I leave my little family for a weekend while the kids are sick?

But that night I sat down at the piano, and I knew I needed to go.  I needed to play at my grandma's funeral.  I could feel that she wanted me to.

We used to play duets.  She would send me music. I made copies of my music for her.  It was a special bond we shared. To my knowledge, I was the only grandchild who stuck with the piano. It pleased me to see how happy it made her.  Often, she would cry.

What should have only taken 6 hours to drive, took me eleven.  It was a bad storm.  Roads closed, and I had to take an alternate route, often going half the speed limit.  For most of the trip, no lines on the roads were visible, just white and grey.

I think my mother-in-law felt I was throwing my life away. "If you stop now, I will pay for a hotel... You've got people who count on you... those sweet babies need their momma!"

Despite the fear, I felt peace that I would make it ...eventually.

And I did.  First to my parent's home, then another 11 hours to CA in a van with a few of my siblings.

We stayed at her place, sleeping on couches and uncomfortable hide-a-beds.

Except for a little cleaning my aunt did, it was just as she left it.
I wandered around my grandmother's house, noticing things I had never noticed before, remembering things long forgotten.

I think she planned to live to 100 considering all her plans and projects.  Her body betrayed her in the end.

The funeral was well attended, mostly by her numerous posterity.  Not all were there, but she had 6 children, 34 grandchildren, and 85 great grandchildren!  What a legacy. 

My mom and others spoke.  We all cried, but laughed a little too.  I played, although the music notes got a bit bleary at times.

They laid her body to rest on a hill under a majestic oak.

I am so glad we visited my grandparents earlier this Spring so that my kids could meet her.

It was no coincidence that we went this year.  I didn't think the sense of urgency was for her though.  I kind of thought it would be our last chance to see my grandpa.  He's still kickin' -although in an assisted living center.
Now I wish I had spent more time talking to her.

But life's too short for regrets.

The morning before we left, I went out back and looked at her forlorn patio flowers. From the outside I took in the view of her glass bottle-lined windowsills and lacy curtains for the last time. I hadn't realized I was humming but suddenly the words to match the melody came into my head and I choked.  "Wishing you were somehow here again..."

She wouldn't want me to be sad.

I doubt she is. She is free from physical pain and suffering.
Not to mention that with previously departed family members and all the genealogy she did, I bet she had quite the welcome on the other side.

I took home a bucket containing a several bulbs of beautiful Amaryllis plants.  A silly thing to do, but I couldn't see why it had to die, just because she did.

Things like that, should be enjoyed and appreciated while you have it.

Like life.

Or a delicate frost that's here and gone.