So many things.
An interesting, painful, wonderful, beautiful day.
But before I start to blog about my grandmothers funeral I'm going to tell everyone here about something super cool.
Jack Wills.
I just got my Back to school handbook (it's really just like a catalog of this falls Collection) for 2011 from Jack Wills.
I am madly in love.
Seriously.
I wish I could really promise that I would never shop anywhere else.
But sadly, to my own dismay, that would be a complete lie.
Now onto the funeral!
So the moment I saw her urn up in the front of the room and the picture of her sitting next to it,
I choked. Serious chokin'. I was on the verge of tears. It was horrid. The whole shindig hadn't even started yet.
Once it had you could hear everyone sniffling and crying.
I was no excuse. Quietly sobbing to myself.
And then it was time to share a story or something about Elsie.
And a few strong strong souls got up and shared something.
Stan (He's the youngest of all of the children) stood up, with tears in his eyes, choking on his words in the most heartbreaking beautiful way a son can. and said. (Not verbatim, just to the best of my ability)
"When I was little, I wasn't very good at algebra. I couldn't grasp the concept. Mom would always try to help me with it. So I remember waking up in the middle of the night and I walked down stairs and I saw Mom at the dining table trying to teach herself algebra, so that she could teach me."
And I just thought, (well I have always thought this, but it was an intense feeling of knowledge) this woman seriously was the most amazing woman to have ever lived.
She filled voids for people that they didn't know that they even had, or they did know.
I struggled the entire time trying to push myself to stand up and say something, because I knew that I had to.
If I didn't I would be kicking myself, and regretting not living up to my own personal standards of living as best as I can.
So somehow, choking on my tears (and snot, which is gross, but what can you do?) I stood up and I went to the podium with the microphone (everyone else did it from their seats, but my voice doesn't carry like everyone else in my family.) and I apologized because I could feel the tears coming on.
And this is what I said (also, verbatim to the best of my ability.)
"I remember when I was little, like kindergarten or something. My grandmother was babysitting me, and I don't know what brought on this question, maybe I had a crush on some boy at school, who knows, but I asked grandma what 'Love' was. and when your as young as I was grown ups tend to just give you a quick thoughtless answer, "It's when you like someone. A lot." But I remember my grandmother taking a minute to actually think about it. To really ponder my question and then a few minutes later she told me to run into her bathroom and grab her hand held mirror. So I did, and she told me to look into it. I said "I see me!" and she said, "You're love. Because I love you. And I am love, because you love me. And that's what love is."
I was crying terribly, and I don't even know if anyone could make out the words I was saying, I hope they could.
But everyone came up to me for the rest of the day and told me how beautiful it was. I responded every time with a sheepish, embarrassed thank you.
And then there was my Uncle Brad. He's one wild man. Seriously.
I've never seen him cry, or show any emotion that wasn't just completely badass, or really angry.
He had been crying nonstop for the entire week.
My grandmother had been the closet person to my uncle. He doesn't have a lot. and neither did my grandma, but she gave him everything. She would go to his house with a crock pot full of food, she would patch his clothes whether he wanted her to or not. She gave him a place to stay, she practically raised him. And I'm sure that you know people in your lives like that, but and this could be my family bias for this woman, but what you know about a person taking care of another person, what you know about someone stepping in to take the place of a mother is nothing compared to how this woman treated not just Brad, but everyone in need.
When her children were done growing, and done needing her to constantly take care of her she joined Operation Smile (I think that's what It's called.) and she donated money constantly to it. All of her children told her that she was wasting her money because she didn't know that these kids were really truly getting that money, she said she didn't care and to sign the checks.
When she had her first stroke and came back the doctor told her that she needed to take this medicine and stay in the hospital. She raised both of her fists into the air and said "No! I just need some coffee and crackers!"
And when she was in the nursing home a nurse was trying to help her get dressed and my grandmother clawed her and said "get off me bitch. I can do this myself." I just chuckle at the thought of a tiny old woman who's 90 doing that. She's just so amazing.
And I feel this empty space in my chest. There really is. I didn't see her everyday like some people did. But she was my hero. I looked up to her, always. I've always wanted to be a great woman like she was. And now that she's gone, I still look up to her. I still strive to be just like her.
And now thinking about the kind of woman she is, and all of the things that were said and everything everyone did, I can hear her tiny little voice trying to shout, "Stop. This is too much."
But it isn't. It's not enough for a woman this incredible.
Before she died she said "I won't be happy in Heaven."
and one of the daughters asked why and she said.
"Because I can't be happy without my babies."
I was one of her little babies.
God.
I just love this woman so much.
And it hurts.
And it's going to hurt.
I miss her.
I want to ask her now, as an almost seventeen year old girl, "Grandma, what is love?"
She'd still probably answer the same way.
I love her.
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