A Life Remembered

Last Monday I went to Tampa to celebrate the life of my sweet, treasured Gran. It still doesn't feel like she's gone. 
But we'll get to that. 
Monday morning found me in a bit of a funk. I was rushing to get us all out the door on time, and quite certain that I was going to forget to pack something. 
It's about a three hour drive to Tampa, and I really didn't want to be late for Gran's viewing. 
About halfway to Tampa, I decided I needed to find a bathroom or I might just die. Two cups of coffee don't mix well with long drives. 
So we went to a gas station, I ran in, used the restroom, and then....oh boy. I didn't realize this, but I walked out of the restroom with my dress tucked into my underwear. Yes. I did that. 
I was MORTIFIED. I'm pretty sure I can never go back there again. The cashier was super nice, but I couldn't leave fast enough.
I let this now funny incident bother me the rest of the way there. But later that day I realized that my Gran would have laughed hysterically at that story. So I smiled at that. She taught me to laugh when you don't know what else to do. 

Gran's viewing was unreal. There she was, well, there her shell was, all made up and not showing the story of the stroke she endured or the paralysis that followed. She just looked peaceful. And not there. She was buried in the dress she married my grandpa in. It's bright pink. And so like her. 
I went up to her casket and just cried. I didn't know what to say, so I stroked her hair and told her she looked beautiful and I know she's with Jesus and I will see her again someday. 

The funeral itself was so beautiful. You could tell Gran planned it herself. We sang her favorite hymns, and my mom, my aunt, and I all spoke. By the grace of God, I got through my entire speach with no crying. I wanted Gran to be proud. 

We had three sheriff escorts to the cemetery. I said more than once that my Gran would have been quite impressed with all this hoopla over her. And, knowing my Gran, she probably would have tried to get one of the officer's phone numbers :) She was funny that way.  

The burial was unreal. There were so many flowers, which is funny if you knew my Gran. She would always say (always) to bring her flowers while she was still alive. "Because what good are flowers when I'm dead?". She must have said this a hundred times. 

It feels unreal that she's gone. As much as I loved my other grandparents and were sad when they passed, this time it feels much sadder. Maybe because I am so much older and have that many more memories, or maybe it was just the special relationship I had with this amazing woman. 

My aunt and mom cleaned out her house this week, and gave me some things of hers. A blanket she made, tons of photos of she and I, some of her cookware, and a zip-lock bag. A big one filled with well over a hundred letters and cards I have given her over the years. She saved every. one. This is when it hit me. My efforts meant something to her. When I reached out to her, she noticed. Every get-well card, every thank you note. In that bag. I was overwhelmed and very touched. 

I want to be like her. I'm not her, of course. I am much more sensitive than she was and I am much more fearful than she was. But there are some traits of hers that I strive to have. She was generous. With so many. Even after her brain surgery last month she wrote checks to her favorite charities. She didn't tell us this. We only found out after she passed. She paid for me to go to camp growing up. She gave me money for my cheer-leading uniform back in middle school. She paid me for Thanksgiving dinner last year. I told her no, but she said over and over that cooking for 20 people was expensive, and she wanted to help me out. 
She had a very giving heart. 

I miss her. But sad is not my default feeling with all of this. I would say that more than anything, I am just so grateful. I didn't know how rich my life was by having her in it. How greatly her encouragement kept me going. 

I want to be that kind of woman someday.