...of my grandpa's life, that is. Funny how the death of a loved spurs you to action. When Grandpa Grey died last week, I was asked to share a memory of him. Although I have a few detailed memories of Grandma and him, I realized that I have many more vague ones - ones that are just pictures in my mind. Saying goodbye to Grandpa was something that I realized I wanted to remember, so I decided now is the time to start a blog.
I saw Grandpa alive for the last time at his 90th birthday last July. It was clear he was having a hard time recognizing me. When I got a call last week that he was about to pass, I wasn't sure I wanted to see him again. I didn't figure I could get out there soon enough to say goodbye anyway, so I waited. I finally left for Ogden last Tuesday, only to get a phone call from Glenna when we were halfway there that he had passed on. I admit I was relieved that I didn't make it in time. I wanted to remember him the way he looked last summer.
When we went to the viewing on Thursday, I was hesitant to approach his casket to say my goodbyes. Azie prompted me to go. I'm really glad I did. He looked just the same as I remembered him from last summer with the exception of his lips. He looked like he got botox. They were much smoother than normal. Family members placed precious items in his casket. Rae Lynn stuffed a whole bunch of his favorite candies in his pocket so he could share them in heaven. I had an empty feeling that I had nothing to give him. Then I realized that I did have something to give - my love and prayers. I told him that he would be learning about eternal families up there and to please, please accept the temple work that someone would be doing for him so that he and Grandma could be together forever. I told him I would be praying for him. I didn't really want to say goodbye, but it was one of the best experiences I have ever had. I suddenly wanted to go to Panaca to be there when the final goodbye was said.
At his graveside Grandpa's children all said a few words, but they all basically said the same thing. They all felt loved while growing up, and they all said he was a great dad. The VFW was also there to pay tribute. It was quite touching. They folded up the flag and presented it to Grandma, and she immediately began to sob. Melvin dedicated the grave. It was very heartfelt. They opened the casket one last time for people to say goodbye. Pamela was as hesitant as I had been to approach him, but with my encouragement she finally went up. I watched as she visited with Grandma for a few minutes - the first time since she was 15 years old. Then I watched as she and my dad hugged - the first time since she was 18 years old.
We went to the local church for a family lunch where we were reaquainted with relatives. One of my favorites is Uncle Bus - nicknamed for the Buster Brown shirts he used to wear. I don't even know his real name. He's Grandma's brother. We used to stop at his and Aunt Marnie's house in Las Vegas almost every summer. They were always smiling and happy. Aunt Marnie isn't well and couldn't make the trip, but it was sure great to see Uncle Bus. All the cousins were there except Amber and Aaron. I did see Aaron at the viewing though.
Besides saying goodbye to Grandpa, my favorite memory of that trip is when I got to work on Grandma's nails. Her polish was badly chipped and her fingernails grown out. I cleaned the polish off and cut and filed her nails. She has dementia, so reminiscing was out of the question. I just sat and enjoyed touching my Grandma's hands for those minutes. Aunt Carolyn and Aunt Debbie asked if she wanted to go take a nap, but she said she didn't want to leave with all those people around. It was so nice for her that everyone was there. I learned a lot about "bearing one another's burdens". Grandma was grieving, but having us all there helped ease her burden. I can't imagine her enduring that experience alone. I think we have funerals so that we can help carry the load of those closest to the deceased.
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