Family and Funerals

 We knew she was dying. We knew he would grieve tremendously. The last month with them together was an experience I will never forget.


Grandma didn't want hospice care, she wanted family. And family is exactly what she got. Family was with her even after her spirit left her body. We cared for her by taking turns, two siblings at a time, keeping watch over her, talking to her, remembering with her. My time with my grandma was peaceful because she was ready.
Seeing my Grandpa leaning over her bed broke my heart. The way he held her hand, the way he talked to her (how he has always treated her) was the most difficult, emotionally wrenching thing I've witnessed so far in my life. He will be so lost without his true love.



I was fortunate enough to say a few things at the funeral.I hope I honored her enough.

For the most part this solemn occasion brought me enough joy that I won't think of grandma's funeral as an episode of despair. This event brought family together from all over the country. Cousins, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews whom I haven't seen in a long, long time, greeted me with warmth and affection. Death isn't always tragic, this time it was healing.

As I wrote my thoughts about my grandma the words flowed freely:

"She died on a Saturday morning, my grandma, my role model. Helen Holt, my grandma taught me how to love life. Her love for life was so full and contagious and exciting. She bubbled over with enthusiasm every time we were together. It was as if her only goal was to have fun. Visits with grandma were never obligatory, they were greatly anticipated.

I remember my childhood summers as epic adventures. Mineral King trips were legendary, the jewel of my early memories. Imagine Ken and Helen, my grandparents; imagine the feat, the responsibility of taking ten or so grandchildren deep into the beautiful mountains of the Sierras. They loved us so much that they took us there year after year after year.

As children, grandma set us free. For two weeks we were surrounded by a spirit of love and affection and perfect acceptance. I remember fishing shoulder to shoulder with my cousins, grandpa constantly untangling our lines, grandma along side us teaching us how to cast. I remember the secret fishing holes, the huge redwood trees, the cabin. I remember the anticipation of seeing Sawtooth Peak, of climbing around the huge boulders in search of bears. Those were some of the most happiest, most innocent memories of my life. I believe these memories are so exquisite to this day simply because when I was with her I felt loved, I felt safe and I felt important.

Even as I grew into my teens grandma was a key figure in my self acceptance. To my delight she was playfully rebellious. She bought me my first bikini and had my ears pierced when I was much to young, to the chagrin of my mother. She took me shopping for school clothes and when I couldn't decide between two outfits, she would declare, "just get them both". I never felt that grandma was obligated to me because I was her granddaughter. All I ever felt was pure joy on her part and pure trust on mine.

I lost her some years ago, when I lost myself (as most selfish people do). I lost her to my own personal trivialities (my career,my busy life, my stuff) When stupid things in life overshadow the importance of family ties it is truly a tragedy. I found her once again as she was dying. At that time my insignificant self pity gave way to the thoughts and accomplishments of a most extraordinary woman.

DEATH PICKS UP EACH GOOD SOUL AND KISSES IT
DEATH LISTENS TO YOUR LAST BREATH, WATCHES YOUR VISIONS OF LOVED ONES
---AND DEATH FREES YOU FROM FEAR
LASTLY GOD BLESSES AND KEEPS YOU

I LOVE YOU GRANDMA