Last weekend, I stood and looked at her hands. Hands that would have been 97 years old on October 14. Hands that wore her wedding ring for almost 78 years. Hands that played outside when she was young in rural Minnesota. Hands that maybe patted her baby doll's back, while singing it to sleep. Hands that would hold her new husband's hands, as she pledged to spend their lives together "as long as we both shall live." Hands that would hold, care, clean, and comfort each of her nine children in the days to come. Hands that would serve her family continually, even after all nine children left their childhood home. Hands that made homemade bread, cookies, doughnuts, too many meals to count. Hands that hung countless dresses, overalls, diapers, and sheets on the line. Hands that she would fold in prayer, daily. She would pray for me and each one of my relatives, her descendants every day. She had servant's hands because she had a servant's heart. I stared at her hands as I stood there, admiring their beauty. It became apparent to me how important her hands were to her during her life. I realized the impact that those hands had on everyone who came in contact with my great grandma. I realized that I am here, largely because of her existence.
When I first heard that Grandma's health was starting to fail her, just around 3 weeks ago, I knew that I would be saying good-bye to her soon. Even though this made me sad for me, I felt happy for Grandma. It will be downright weird to go to the lake and not go visit Grandma. Up until I was around 20 years old, when I went to the lake, heading up to the farmhouse to say "hi" to Great Grandpa and Grandma was a daily occurrence. My cousins and I could pop our head into the sun room at any moment during the day and could reliably find at least great-grandpa sitting on his orange stool, most likely drinking a cup of coffee. If Grandma wasn't in the sun room, she was in the next room over, in the kitchen, fixing something to set out on the table for anyone to help themselves to, should they come to visit. I might have sat down on the bench to chat with Grandpa and Grandma for a few moments, telling them about school or violin or ballet. Then, I would listen to Grandpa's soft, gravelly voice, as he told me a snippet of a memory he had from his own childhood. On my way out of the sun room, I would undoubtedly grab a doughnut or kringla to nibble on while I played outside. Outside, I would find the pack of farm cats that stuck around for Grandma's table scraps and many mice they would find. Specifically, I loved the kittens. I had a button-down shirt with a chest pocket on each side that fit one kitten, inside each one, perfectly. I'm sure the kittens loved it.
When Grandpa died in February of 1998, I worried about Grandma. She was 82, and as far as I know, she was perfectly healthy. However, she was clearly heartbroken that the love of her life had left this life without her. I thought she might live a couple of more years, but would probably pass away, due to heartache. Even though Grandma lived another 14 years without her husband, I know it was hard for her. A couple of years after Grandpa died, Grandma went to live in a condo in town. All one level, less house to keep clean; practically, it was a much better living situation for her. However, it had to have been difficult for her to leave the farm house that she and her husband had built, as newlyweds in 1930. She birthed all 9 children in that house that they both built and loved. How weird to live someplace else!
When visiting Grandma in the condo became a reality for me, I remember hearing her say almost every time I visited her, "I'm ready to go to heaven." It never seemed morbid to me. It was a genuine longing that I knew was aching her. Even though she began to experience some somewhat minor health ailments, her body kept fighting. After all, she always was a strong woman. I am always baffled at the idea of having nine children! I have two and most days, I feel overwhelmed! My great grandma is someone I will always admire.
My family has a Facebook group that has become very active since Grandma became weak. A bunch of us have taken comfort in sharing Grandma's recipes, memories, and just generally doing a better job of staying connected. While I was in Minnesota, we had a big brainstorm session of how we can all be a part of continuing the legacy of our family, specifically through the chapel that my great grandpa built on the hill that overlooks our family's old farmland and the lake. I am excited to see how that takes shape over the years.
I will miss my great grandparents very much, but I am so fortunate to be able to believe, without a doubt, that they are both in heaven, together. I am so blessed that both of my children were able to meet their great great grandma. I love that whenever Avery sees a picture of my great grandma, she knows who it is. I am blessed that even when I am in heartache, mourning the loss of a beautiful life, I still have my own grandparents, all living, all very active in my life. I can only praise God for that!
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