Grandma

It has been nearly a year and a half since my grandma's passing.  And I miss her often.  She rarely called me, for fear that she would catch me at a bad time... which she claimed to be every moment of the day with all my kids running around.  And truthfully, she was right.  But I loved the times that she did call, usually to ask me if she could purchase a box of frozen steaks or chicken breasts to mail to me, just to help me with quick meal prep for when I'm too spent to make anything myself.  I loved those gifts-- something practical, thoughtful, and consumable, for which I didn't have to "find" a place to put it.  Those phone calls were usually quick and to-the-point, with a few anecdotes to makes each other laugh.  Grandma had a great laugh, even though it usually ended with her hacking up a lung.  A consequence of smoking most of her life, although she had quit ten years earlier.

I do miss her.

Although, on Friday evening as I stood dressed in white in the temple's baptismal font with Kevin by my side, I could feel her near.  Her name came up on the monitor in front of us, and Kev and I looked at each other smiling, with tears in our eyes.  It was an honor to be her proxy.

Earlier in the week I called Gramps and asked his permission to take her name to the temple.  He said, "You know your grandma was sort of a religious philosopher... I think she would be pleased...  And I'm fine with it, too.  I'm what you would call a 'liberal Catholic."  I had to chuckle.  Grandpa cracks me up.

But I think he was right.  I think she really was pleased.  My mom used to joke with her, "You know, Mom, that you really are practically a Mormon?"  After all, Grandma had finally quit smoking, she didn't drink anymore, had read and believed in The Book of Mormon, and she faithfully watched General Conference.  She just never wanted to "take the plunge" into the baptismal waters.  Thought she was "fine".

Before Kev and I had left for the Youth temple trip that evening, he had asked if I would sit in the chapel with the Young Women and talk with them following the confirmations.  He gave me some paper and pencils, and wanted me to give them a chance to write as well.  He gave me very little direction... which bothered me.  I like to feel like I have a purpose, and I wasn't sure what he wanted me to say.  But as I stood in front of them, all I could think about was Grandma, and how grateful I was that I could take part in this beautiful, essential ordinance on her behalf.  And I thought of how each of the deceased sisters for whom each of these girls had entered the waters of baptism had family members who loved them just as much as I loved Grandma-- that these women were just as loved and treasured, and of just as much value to their loved ones and to the Father as my grandmother.

One day we will be reunited.  Some people believe that this life is it-- that death is the end, so might as well live it up while we are here.  How sad.  And empty.  If only they understood that the Spirit does, in fact, live on.  How might that change their thinking, their choices, their lives even?

I can miss my grandma... but I know I will see her again.

Until then maybe I should order some frozen chicken breasts or steaks.  You know, for old-time's sake.