Farewell

My grandmother passed away on St. Patrick's Day. I'm not entirely clear what happened, but the story I heard was that she and a group of friends were going out for corned beef and cabbage. They were having a great time laughing and chatting in the car. Then along comes a pick-up truck that smashed into them. Grandma was airlifted to a hospital. Attempts to save her life were unsuccessful, and she died. I keep having to remind myself, it was better this way. From what I gathered, she was mangled pretty badly. If she had survived, it would have meant a long downward spiral with the same inevitable conclusion. That was not at all what Grandma would have wanted. She was a proud and spunky lady. She valued her freedom. The last thing she wanted was to be trapped in a helpless body.

It doesn't make the loss any easier though. She was the picture of health for an 85-year-old. She could have easily had another decade of laughter and independence.

Goodbye, Grandma F. We'll miss you always.

There was a silver lining. Her memorial service was an opportunity for my dad's side of the family to have a reunion. And it was also a chance for me to spend more time with my nephews. Sarah got the boys the cutest little suits to wear.

Sarah found a quiet spot in the pre-school adjacent to the church for the boys to play. I thought it was so cute that he bribed Nash to keep clean by giving him a dollar bill.

We also held a private burial service at her grave site. She was joining Grandpa and Uncle Jim.

After the burial, the family joined up at my parents' house. Again, the boys were the stars of the show. And what toys did they fight over? A fire station and clubhouse that had to be at least 30 years old. I remember playing with them when I was a kid.