We layed my grandmother to rest yesterday in a little cemetery down the street from the home she was born in, in Delta, Colorado. She lived an amazing 94 years. She was a teacher, an artist, a mother, a grandmother and a great grandmother. Everything she touched turned into a beautiful piece of perfection. She sewed, she painted, she grew amazing flowers. As a child she taught me so many things. She taught me to read. She took my hand and showed me how to hold a brush. She sat me in her lap and sewed with me. She always let me cut out the biscuits. Memories of apple butter and fruit leather stashed in metal tins full of powdered sugar. Teeny tiny pleats in teeny tiny doll clothes. Feather beds and blue lamps. Ticking clocks that chimed the hours away. Apple trees. Strawberries. Blue hobnail in the entry. Pealing wallpaper that I helped her put on the walls so many many years ago. The dolls. The dominoes under the coffee table. So many memories.
She was there when my teens were babies, guiding and helping me through those first years as a parent. Teaching me how to diaper and nurse a newborn and showing me how she did things when she had her babies. She helped me cook my first Thanksgiving dinner and she helped me sew my daughters first homecoming dress. She encouraged and helped me grow, always interested in what I was doing and how my children were. She adored them. Later, she spent summers here in Colorado and she got to know my younger children. I hope they always remember. I hope they treasure her memory as I do.
Fly away home Grandma. You led a beautiful life.