Grandma Dear

Yesterday was Grandma Irene's birthday. Though she's been gone from us for over a year now, I thought about her so many times throughout the day, and it just didn't seem quite right that I had to resist the temptation to call a number that we all still know by heart. I think for me, it is easy to go along thinking that she is still in Loup City, rocking in the chair, watching "The Price is Right" or packing a thimble and her good needles to go to quilting on Wednesday afternoon. Those times are so vivid in my memory and through grade school, high school, college, and my early married life, I could return to that peaceful place on a whim and loved to when I could, mostly self-invited but always welcome. So....she's still there, she's going to be there stepping out onto the porch with that famous smile as I drive into the driveway, right?? Okay, reality check, maybe not. But I can see it in my mind as clearly as if it were real.

As a young girl, a teenager, a college student, and finally, a wife and mother, I always considered her house a sort of sanctuary...for different reasons as I grew and changed. As a young girl, it was just plain fun. As a high school student, it was a place to go and just be myself...no strings attached. As a college student, I had a true appreciation for who Grandma and Grandpa were and what they could teach me in my path to finding my way. But, never more important were those moments that I had with Grandma as I faced adversity as a young wife and mother.

The rumor mill sometimes had it that Grandma didn't handle bad news very well or tended to brush over it and concentrate on the happier things of life. She proved the rumor mill wrong as she became a huge source of strength and quiet understanding for me in the last 2+ years of her life. I will never forget the first time I saw her after Sam and Hannah died. I walked into her house 16 days after we had lost Sam and 2 days after we had lost Hannah. I was back in town for my cousin, Amy's, wedding, and Camille was still fighting in the NICU. I hadn't talked to her on the phone. I walked into the living room in Loup City and she and Grandpa were there waiting. She took my face in her hands and looked me in the eyes for the longest time and we both cried silent tears and then she hugged me like there was no tomorrow. She could talk to me without words, and it was so healing.

As time went by and Camille began losing her vision, having surgeries, and continuing to grow, Grandma remained a source of solid strength. She knew things were hard, but when she told me everything was going to be okay, I somehow felt so much better. She was not afraid to have the hard conversations with me, which made it all the more comforting when she would tell me that Camille's purpose in life is something really special, just waiting to unfold. And she was right. Camille touches lives everyday, just as Grandma said she would.

There are days when I long to hear those words come from her mouth again. When long to see that spunky little smile and see her little strut. Until then, I imagine that she is probably looking down on us all, rocking Sam and Hannah and singing "How Much is that Doggie in the Window?" And playing BINGO or Rummie.

And, until the day when I hopefully will see her again, I have a living reminder of her in Livvy. Something about Livvy's short little hairdo, short little legs, spunky little smile, and little strut remind me of Grandma. My little Irene.