Grandma's Funeral

Wednesday was my Grandmother Walker's funeral.

She was laid to rest next to my grandfather in the Lewisville Idaho cemetery.

I was overwhelmed with how wonderful the day was.

I think Grandma would have been happy.

It was beautiful, heartfelt and simple.

JaNae, Jonathan, Jared, Dad and I.

Jolyn, we missed you and wish circumstances would have allowed you to come.

Mom...we would have loved you in the picture, but thank you for taking this one.

At the funeral, JaNae gave my grandmother's life sketch.  She asked for help, so I wrote a small tribute to my grandmother.  I'm going to copy it onto here so I  won't lose it. 

As a granddaughter I would describe Elma as "The Norman Rockwell"  picture perfect grandmother, but with a lot more sass.  Memories of her and how I felt in her home are beautiful detailed flashbacks made up of smells and images.  You felt at home the minute you entered her home..literally.  The delicious smell of dinner cooking in the oven mixed with the sweet smell of Downy and bleach, hit you as you walked through the door.  It was a fabulous smell to be greeted by, only better trumped with a smile and a hug.  And that dinner cooking you could smell, you knew it was from scratch.  Whether it be her rolls, pies, pancakes or candy; it was always from scratch.  "Mix" was a dirty word in her home.  My favorite treat that she made was her English toffee.  She kept it in a large glass jar with a heavy lid.  We grand kids would sneak down into her food storage room, open that heavy lid and try to pick out the biggest piece with the most chocolate, all the while thinking we were pulling one over on Grandma.

Also down in her storage room was a giant closet full of her old clothing.  Because of her tiny frame, her hand me downs made perfect dress up clothes for us growing kids.  We spent hours dressing up and playing our favorite self named game of "decent ladies."  I remember how sad I felt when her many pairs high heeled size 5 shoes no longer fit me.  I was crushed, but it was a right of passage.  As was passing up Grandma in height...and then a year later passing up her hair in height.

As I think back to my childhood there are so many images that could be remembered as My Favorite from Grandma's house. There was the perfectly decorated flocked Christmas tree with the fancy glass ornaments I would secretly touch when no one was looking.  And under that tree loved I loved rummaging to find the beautifully wrapped present with my name on it.  There was the stash of multicolored gum balls hidden under her bed.  There was her doll cabinet with what seemed like hundreds to a small girl of exquisitely dressed Madame Alexander dolls staring and smiling back at me.  My sisters and girl cousins would spend hours claiming which one was our favorite and hence belonged to us.  There was the table full of rising donuts that I admitted to Grandma that I wanted to stick my finger in each of them just to see them fall.  I was lovingly scolded and told, "Don't you dare!"  There are her beautifully hand stitched quilts.  To this day I can pick out which stitches are my grandfathers on the quilt that she gave me- his stitches are tighter and not as even as hers.  There was also her many leather purses, each one of them always smelling the exact same- like cinnamon gum and Este Lauder lip stick.  There were the oh so speedy car rides to Idaho falls when I wondered how anyone could drive so fast with just the tip of their high heel touching the gas pedal.  And a road rage rant that will always be close to my heart was heard on one of these trips to town.  "Drive it or Park it Lady"  will be phrase heard by my children and grandchildren along with the phrase, "You'll howl at the moon," that was meant to discourage us grand kids from stealing sips of her diet coke, but she always let us anyway.   And I will never ever forget how when it was time to leave her wonderful home, she would stand on the back porch, still wearing her apron,  and wave goodbye until we couldn’t see her any longer.

Grandma make each of us grand kids feel special and unique.  Whether it was taking me to get my ears pierced when I was eight- I thought I was getting away with something as far as my mother was concerned, but Grandma had full parental permission, or whether it was driving all the way to Shelly in bad weather to pick up a free kitten for my brother Jon, or whether it was giving my older sister driving lessons and suffering whiplash for her efforts, we all knew Grandma loved us because she took the time to be with us. 

A few short paragraphs can’t contain the memories and love I feel for my grandmother.  I love her beyond expression.  She was the perfect example of love, service, grace, style, compassion, and selflessness.  I honestly cannot remember her ever saying an unkind word about anyone. She always brought out the positive in every situation.  I think the best compliment in the world I could give anyone would be to say they were like my grandmother.  I want to be like her.  I want to be with her again someday.  I’m grateful for eternal families so that one day I can.