We went to the next cemetery where my family was located. My first stop was my cousin Daryl who died from the result of a car crash. He was young - in his twenties and a full life ahead of him. He passed away in 1986 and yet standing there in front of his headstone, I recalled it like it was yesterday. Knowing that my mother, who was especially close to him, had been there honoring him touched me. And the largest, most beautiful offering of remembrance came from his parents. And I wept silently for them. For all of us. But I could see him walking beside Grandma in heaven. His gorgeous red hair as his crown. We moved on to my grandmother. I knew this was going to be hard for me... When I got the call in 2002 that grandma was taking a turn for the worst, I dropped everything I was doing and headed for home. An hour and a half drive might as well have been twelve. It took forever. I hurried into the facility only to find mom meeting me in the hallway. I was too late. "No! I had things I had to tell her!" I cried... After a phone call to my mom we finally found the right place. I had found a shimmery garden butterfly on stick that I chose instead of flowers. I wrote a note and attached it. I wanted to stand there and just say it out loud. All the things that grandma had meant to me. And I wondered, how do you thank someone for the way they lived their life? She was always there for me. My memories of staying with her as a child - we played games, she had an organ that she never fussed at anyone playing, vacation Bible schools, scooping out cottage cheese in little bowls and topping it with half a canned apricot (that always seemed so fancy to me), finishing each day with a bowl of ice cream or a chocolate shake, waking each morning to grandma sitting at the kitchen table in her house robe - hot cup of black coffee in front of her, greeting me with a smile and a hug, her making toast in an old-time toaster oven (no door) or my favorite, warming up frozen honeybuns on it! Grandma was a fabulous cook. Grandpa - who is now 91, used to complain that because she never wrote down the ingredients, she never made the same thing twice. As a young woman with wedding bells in my future, I would pour over her many recipe books with her. We would talk about how good they would be and if we would change anything. And she was my prayer warrior. I would go to her to talk about problems and I knew she would pray. She loved my daughter and Mallory loved her. Then suddenly the lady who had always been Grandma was now Mamaw. And it stuck... So now, standing at her gravesite, remembering her life and how much she influenced me I wanted to say thank you.
Thank you, Mamaw, for the way I remember you. Thank you for my own mother and how much of you is reflected in her. Thank you for the strong sense of tradition and values that you instilled in each of your kids (and grandkids and great grandkids). I know that your faith is sight. You are walking the streets of gold and standing by the crystal sea. I can see you walking with Uncle Pete and your brothers and sisters. Laughing with Daryl and Gregory and holding my heaven babies. I love you and I'll see you when I get there. Love, Steffi
We moved on and found my Uncle Pete. He passed on while I was seven months pregnant with Mallory. I searched for my great grandma and my little cousin Gregory who passed away when I was a child. While I was searching I came upon the fresh plot of my friend Gina... it was there that I understood fully the importance of remembering. She has a three year old son that needs to remember his mother. I have children that need to know why we are the people we are and who set the tone for it. If I don't remember those that had such a great part of my life, who will? Who will pass down their values and family traditions if I don't? Who will honor their memory? I will. I will not take lightly this holiday again. I will never forget the impact they had on my life and I choose to remember and to help pass on the precious memories of each of them.
