Is July over yet?

It seems so long ago that the month began.  We were camping in NH and what a wonderful time we had!  Having never before camped outside of a motor home, I was blessed with perfect weather and a delightful location.  We had 'smores every night, never had to wash more than 2 dishes per night, and had access to swimming and showers.  Really, what more do you need?

Oh, friends!  We had those there, too.  :)  Dawn came to see us at the campground and we were able to reconnect with many, many more at church on Sunday.

It was a good trip.

But, then my grandmother died.  I actually found out on Saturday during Dawn's visit.  She let me use her cell phone to call home and see how things were going.  The night before we left, my mother called to tell me that G'ma had decided she had had enough and did not want to be in the hospital anymore.  After 2 1/2 years, she was tired and not getting any better.  They would be signing a DNR and she would be entering Hospice.  So, I called my mom on Sat morning.  She was at Hospice.  G'ma had died about an hour before, a little more than 12 hours after entering Hospice.  My grandfather was the only family member with her, though almost everyone else had been in to see her since Thurs night.  She went peacefully.

When we got home from camping, we started planning what we would do.  Nathan was able to get 3 days of bereavement leave from work and I bought a plane ticket to take Charlie and myself down for the Memorial Service.  We thought of driving down and the kids and I staying all month, but decided against it.  My going down put an end to the planned trip at the end of the month.  The kids are still mad about that.  Never mind that they had 5 days of playing with Daddy. 

Actually, I think my mother is still a little upset about it, too.

When we left for NH, our garden was growing beautifully.  The tomato plant had about a dozen little tomatoes and the kids had already harvested a few beans and peas.  It survived the heat and lack of water while we were gone.  We loved and admired it daily.  (Notice the past tense?)  While I was in FL, our weaselly, crabby neighbor waited until no one was home one morning (Nathan took the kids to the beach) and sneaked into our yard where he tore out the whole thing.  Nathan caught him stuffing everything in our trash can when he returned from the beach.  He stammered something about it touching his fence.  Mary said she "could tell Daddy was very angry, but was trying to stay calm."  Lil'Nathan sat on the front steps and cried for over an hour. 

Lil'Nathan has told everyone in the neighborhood what happened--the landlady was furious! (especially when Mary told her we were going to move as a result!)  My dear son made paper airplanes the other day which read "Do not rip up our property!  We sue you for $90."  I wouldn't let him throw them over the fence.  We have been using the incident to try and teach the joy of forgiveness.  I think I need the lesson, too.  I saw the old grump driving by the other day and stuck my tongue out at him.

Anyway...

I got home very late on Monday and Nathan returned to work on Tues.  He worked the rest of the week and then yesterday went to Chicago for his orientation.  He'll be back on Thurs night. 

My sister had  purchased a ticket to come up and help me drive down to FL.  She is still coming and will be here tomorrow.  And she's managed to convince my grandfather (Mr. I-do-not-fly!) to come with her.  The kids don't yet know that O'pa is coming.  They will be thrilled--and maybe will forgive me for not getting to go to FL.

Dear Grandma,

I just wanted you to know that I think of you everyday.  I know you were ready to go, and that does help this ache inside of me... but only a little.  I miss you.

Sometimes it's little things.  I'll think of you when I call Mary "Petunia."  I told the kids the other day that we'd be having "must-go for dinner--everything in the fridge must go."  I have a special place in my heart for John Wayne, and McLintock is among my favorite movies.  You hated bagpipe music--I think of that every time Nathan puts in one of his CD's.  I recently told lil'Nathan, "I'm not making any promises."  He, too, is learning that really means "no."  And did I really just say "up the road a piece" when asked where something was?  I still love folding sheets.  It must have been all that practice every morning while we were visiting you.

Sometimes it's bigger things.  Thanks to you I can knit and crochet.  How many people have baby blankets, afghans, toys, or sweaters because of that?  I've also taught others, the same way you taught me--even tricking them into learning to read the pattern.  There are no summer memories that don't include you.  How many miles did we cover in your motor home?  I know we hit 34 states, or was it more?  Mexico once.  Canada several times.  Remember the year you were going to take us girls to PEI by yourself?  Grandpa was worried and you calmly told him that if we had car trouble you'd have  us stand out by the car in our swimsuits and we'd have plenty of help in no time.  He came.   

From you I learned a few songs to impress my friends at BYU:

"Starkle, starkle, little twink,

Who the heck am I you think?

I'm not so much under the alcafluence of incohol as some feeple pink I am.

I just had tee martoonies and I fool so feelish,

Me is woe."

We always had to have milk with dinner.  Sometimes, when we were little, we could have a "party" before dinner.  We always had to ask to be excused from the table and in me that instilled great fear, b/c sometimes you said no!  But other times we were allowed to crawl around under the table and what a cool table it was! (Though when I saw it a few years ago I was shocked at how small it had become.)  The best dishwasher in the world was a paper bag for "cleaning" the paper plates.

You always defended us against the grumpy old people in your park who accused us of misbehavior.  We didn't misbehave in the park--we wouldn't dare!--and you knew it.

Sometimes you drove us crazy.  No matter how many times you suggested it, Jenny would never cut her hair to "let the curls show."  Stacy was sick to death of hearing about how she ate breakfast with Wyatt Earp.  I must admit I was a little tired of hearing about how I "ate that nice young man out of his first year of college" when I sampled during strawberry picking, or about the time I nearly poisoned the family with my key lime pie.  Now those stories are part of our memories of you.  You sure loved telling them.

We used to play "hide the Zak" with that picture from one of my freshman year BYU dances.  Why did we stop that after I got married?  Why, also, did we never manage to get a picture of you after we played beauty parlor?  (Our 6 and 3 yr old selves always thought the blue eye shadow on your cheeks, the green shadow up to your eyebrows, and the hair in the "electric shock therapy" style looked beautiful on you.)

I can still hear your laugh.  I can still see your smile, especially the mischievous one.  You loved us so much.  I will always remember you as being full of life, full of love, and full of opinions.  I know we will see you again someday.  Thanks for everything.  I love you.

Eileen Dorothy

1929-2010