About my grandma...

[huskerlaw]

First of all, I want to thank each of you that sent virtual hugs and well wishes my way this week.

This is long, but humor me. I need to say it. She deserves to have it said.

My grandma died a week ago yesterday. She was born in 1917 to Danish immigrant farmers. She grew up on a farm outside of a small town in Nebraska. She put herself through school and graduated from the University at a time when women didn't really do that. She was supposed to marry a local farmer, but she didn't want to, so she eloped with a pharmacist from Indiana during WWII, right before he went off to war. Her parents were livid. She didn't care. They had 4 kids, the last one when she was 40, which was scandalous back in the 1950s. She was born, raised and died a liberal. In Nebraska, that's neither typical nor easy. She was active in local politics and passed that legacy on to me.

She was an amazing woman. She taught me many things in life. What it means to be a liberal. How to treat people fairly and honestly. That you have to chase your dreams. Really, too many life lessons to list. But it turns out she wasn't done teaching me things. And that brings me to last Friday, her funeral.

The church was PACKED. My grandma knew everyone, or so it seemed. And everyone loved her. The minister did a fabulous job. He talked about how much she would be missed...by everyone. How she never had a negative word to say about anybody (except George W. Bush). How she always made people feel welcome. He had spent a lot of time talking to members of the family and also her friends, and he told some of the stories they had told him. My aunt's husband Tom told him about how he was always thankful to have a mother-in-law like her, except it was no fun because he couldn't ever tell a mother-in-law joke. They just didn't ever apply.

He talked about how much she loved her grandkids. How one day when she was in the hospital and he was visiting her, the phone rang. She answered it, then turned to him and said, "It's my granddaughter. You better go...this is going to take a while." She had 4 granddaughters. None of us is really sure who she was talking to that particular time because that's always how she was. We came first. She made time for us, always.

And then the minister made us laugh. Through the tears, he managed to make every one of us laugh. Another story from a time he was visiting her in the hospital. The doctor came in to check on her and started asking her questions designed to see how alert she was. Well, that's a big mistake. Nobody ever accused my grandma of being an idiot or an invalid without paying for it. But she humored the doctor through the "what day is it?" type questions. Until he asked her, "Who is the President?" My fiesty grandmother replied, "George W. Bush. But I didn't vote for him!" You go, grandma!

We spent a lot of time at my aunt's house. Watching basketball. Playing games. Talking. I heard more about the circumstances of grandma's death. And for some reason, that comforted me. She was getting sicker and things were happening to her body that made her really frustrated. So she quit. I honestly believe that she controlled when she died. One minute she was up and around, eating dinner, then something happened, which out of respect I won't repeat here, that made her realize that her dignity and freedom were being taken away. So she decided to die. I don't know how, but it's really the only explanation. She was sick, to be sure. She wasn't going to recover. But honestly there was nothing so wrong with her at that exact moment that should have caused her death. She just decided she was going to control the situation. She was strong and intensely independent, and she chose when she was going to die.

Overall it was a good weekend. Or rather, a necessary one. We took the time to remember her in a way she would have appreciated. With happiness and memories instead of sadness and regret. Well, there was sadness of course, but there are different kinds of sadness. And if it makes sense at all, this was the good kind. We were sad because we loved her so much and we miss her already. Not because of a tragedy. Or because we felt we left something out. Or that she didn't have a good life or had any regrets. We all know she didn't. She loved us as much as we loved her. She was respected and loved by everyone who met her...and that's really all any of us can ask for in the end.

It turns out that everything my grandma taught me was shown to me again at her funeral. Live a long full life where you maintain indepence and spirit and you earn the respect and love of the people around you. Live your life so that the people at your funeral say, "I'm going to miss her. The world was a happier place with her in it." Live so that your family is sad because they miss you already, but are comforted by the fact that you lived your life on your terms. Live so that you have nothing left on your "to do" list because you made sure you got what you wanted out of life.

Thank you Grandma. I love you. I miss you.