My paternal grandma died yesterday afternoon, a week after suffering a stroke in the right side of her brain. She had been living in the nursing home in Powell for the last five years, in the same room as Grandpa. Each time I said good-bye to her over the last five years, we both knew it could be our last time seeing each other, and both our eyes teared up. I'm glad Grandma is no longer having to suffer through pain and weakness. Update: There will be a public memorial service for Grandma in Powell on December 19.
Below, I have written some of my initial memories of this strong woman, who survived the Great Depression as a little girl, married Grandpa during World War II, homesteaded in desolate Wyoming after the War (at the foot of Heart Mountain), and raised five wonderful kids. Her 13 grandchildren were the pride of her life, and she loved the seven great-grandchildren she knew. Her eighth great-grandchild, Taylor Rebecca Peters (Update: Born November 23, 2008 at 3:52 p.m., 7 lbs. 10 oz. 21 inches long; mother and baby both doing well), the daughter of my cousin Carrie, was born at the Powell Hospital while Grandma lay non-responsive in a hospital bed down the hall. A new generation is ushered in, as our matriarch has been ushered out.
Grandma, we will miss you, but we thank God that you are at peace now in His presence!
Things I remember about Grandma:
* her bright smile
* her sense of humor to the end (I loved spending time with her in the nursing home, as she would say something she knew was funny and an impish smirk would come across her face)
* her capable hands, whether it was snapping beans from her garden, or tending her flowers (she had a major green thumb!), or cooking delicious, greasy meals for her family, or delicately embroidering a pillow case
* her strong work ethic (something we've all acquired from her and Grandpa in our own way)
* her love of Easter (she took great delight in setting up an Easter egg hunt in her huge yard and setting the grandchildren loose to make their discoveries--plastic eggs filled with candy)
* her great pride in her children and grandchildren (newspaper clippings adorned her fridge and bulletin board for years)
* her sternness
* her common sense
* her 25 odd years' fascination with salt and pepper shakers
* her dedication to 4-H and the Park County Fair
* her dedication to First United Methodist Church
* her patience, yet assertiveness, with Grandpa's moods
* I remember staying with them on Friday nights (around the time my parents divorced) and being allowed to stay up late to watch Dallas and Dynasty on their little kitchen TV
* her love of playing games with her grandkids (Triple Yahtzee, Crazy Eights, Uno, SkipBo, a dice game called "Chicken")
* her mashed potatoes, baked beans, lemonade, and yummy green beans
* her desire for the family to get together and get along
* her way of saying things the way she sees them, which often meant putting her foot in her mouth or keeping factions festering in our extended family
* her sharp memory (to the end, she would keep us all informed of what various family members were up to; she seemed especially proud of my cousin John, who is getting his PhD right now)
* her gift of hospitality
* her insistence that I would not be an adult until I married, but her willingness to eventually come to an understanding that my singleness does not make me less human
* her unswerving devotion to Grandpa
For more about my grandma, see these posts:
life in chelyabinsk . . . and thoughts on Christian unity
Last week, NPR's Anne Garrels did a five-part series on Chelyabinsk, an industrial city in Russia's Ural Mountains. The picture she painted of life there is VERY SIMILAR to the Russia I knew living in Irkutsk and traveling to various parts of Russia from 2002-2006.
Posted at 12:08 PM in Commentary on Christianity, Radio, Russia | Permalink | Comments (1)