Today, you are dancing on the streets of Heaven, no longer hindered by an earthly body. Or maybe you're playing beautiful hymns on a heavenly-tuned piano and the angles are singing along. Perhaps, you and the love of your earthly life are thanking God in person for all the times of joys and trials that He blessed your marriage with for 62 wonderful years. Thanking Him for your 100 and the legacy of faith, love and laughter that you were allowed to leave them. And I am sure that you have heard Him say the words, "Well done good and faithful servant. Enter into the joy of your Lord."
You loved us all so well. Even with 7 kids, 6 daughter/son-in-laws, 26 grandkids, 18 grandkid-in-laws, 40 great-grand-kids (with 3 more on the way), you managed to make each and every one of us feel special, favored and cherished. You remembered every birthday and even little significant tidbits that lined up with our lives. Like that the silo on the homestead farm caught fire on my birthday one year on July 31st.
Your example of love and joy created a legacy of strong, happy families and marriages. The sweet adoration you showed to Grandpa for sixty-two years is something we have all looked to as an example. Even at your fifty-year anniversary party, I can remember you glowing with love like a newly-wed bride. And the best piece of marriage advice I ever received, I heard from you. "Don't waste your energy arguing," you told me with a mischievous glimmer in your eye, "save it for more fun things." Well then.
I know life changes and nothing lasts forever, but I wish Weston and Isaac could have experienced summers on the Farm. Those times are my favorite memories from my childhood. Climbing on the hay bales, drinking chocolate Quik (mixed with fresh, whole milk that you gathered that morning from the barn), dancing to the hymns and nursery rhymes you'd play on the piano, waking up to the sound of Grandpa and Uncle Tim yelling at the cows to come in. All of these times are precious to me and I wish there was some magical way for my boys to have memories with you like that. They would have adored you.
I'm so glad you were able to pat my twin belly last summer when I came to visit. You were so excited about that and my favorite picture of you and I will always be of that moment.
I'm sad you're gone. I'm sad that so much of my life was spent living on the other side of the country from you. I'm sad I don't have more memories with you. I'm sad for those of us who are left behind to miss you. But out-weighing my sadness is a overwhelming joy for you that you are finally Home. I know you were ready and I'm so glad you are finally were your heart longed to be. You lived ninety-one full, happy years and you are now seeing first-hand the promises of the scriptures you so steadfastly read and believed in. And I am thrilled for you.
It is hard to imagine that you are not here any longer. It almost seems like you're still just a few thousand miles away and we're just between visits. Which we are in a way. So that is what I'll think about today and in the years to come when I miss you so badly. We're just between visits and I'll see you soon. I miss you Grandma and love you so much.