Mothers day

I hate apostrophes.  Never quite sure when and how to use them.

Sunday was the first Mother's day in years that I hadn't seen my gramma.  The day before I was at a funeral for a dear friends dad.

 Zac is currently no longer in the 'safe part' of the middle east.  He is now in the 'safe part' of Afghanistan.  One of the other ladies at the funeral also has a son in Afghanistan but her son is an actual riffle toting soldier.

My friends dad was a retired air-force guy.  He served in Vietnam.  The funeral had young air-force guys (Do you call all air-force personal airmen?  We call navy folks sailors even if they have never been on a boat so I imagine even non pilots would be called air-men?)  Anyway - these young men played taps and folded the flag and presented it to the grandson.  I was sad for my friends loss but was unprepared for the extreme grief I felt for the whole war thing.  I am not a peacenik by any means but, and this was not a funeral for a person killed in a war but I nonetheless found my heart breaking a little bit.  So I took a deep breath and looked down.  There was one of those flat grave markers near my feet (I hate being at a graveside service and trying not to stand on a persons grave but not being sure where they exactly are.)  So this grave marker has a pot of flowers on it covering the last name and the final date; but the first name and the year of birth were the same as my dads.

I am so very fortunate to have both my parents and to have never lost a child. . .  but my deep gratitude is always lined by an equally deep fear.

My gramma lived to be 88 which is something.  So I miss her and was sad to not have another mothers day with her but am grateful for the family that is alive and thrilled that we all love each other.

Last Lunch Together

I was out to lunch with my mom and grandma about a month before Grandma died.  It was often difficult to make conversation with grandma, Alzheimers doesn't just erase huge chunks of memory. . . it fries the logic circuits and commits other random mischief.  But there were good days and this lunch was one of them.  My mom's cousin Kris had asked my mom if she knew how many cows Grampa Johnson (my grandmas dad) had on his farm.  My mom did not remember.  So when we were at lunch with grandma I asked her if she remembered.  She immediately answered 112!  I knew from what my mom had told me about the size of the farm that this wasn't possible but I was pleased that the answer matched the question.  I replied, "That's alot of cows!"  Grandma leaned over and in a conspiratorial voice said, "That's alot of lying!"

Grandma had a quick wit at times and it always delighted me.  Her humor was never at the expense of others.  I miss her so much.

Margaret Evelyn Johnson Sundin

Margaret Evelyn Johnson Sundin

A first generation American, born August 4^th 1922 to Swedish immigrants Andrew and Yarda Johnson, Margaret passed on Thursday, March 3rd in Mesa Arizona.  Margaret, widowed in 1993, was also preceded by her siblings Hank, Marion, and Walt; and by her grandsons Don, Ross, and Rian.  She is survived by her children Charles Sundin, Bonnie Lindemann, Ann Carmichael, and Zandra Carmichael, as well as their spouses, a passel of grandchildren, a handful of great grandchildren, and one great great granddaughter. 

A visitation will be held Monday, March 7th at Mariposa Gardens in Mesa Arizona followed by funeral service.  In June Margaret will return to Upper Michigan to rest forever in the land that she always loved.   The last weeks of Margaret’s life were made easier and more peaceful by the loving and caring staff of Hospice of the Valley.  

$495 Blog

So we arrive here because we are frugal.  I was helping my mother make "pre-need" arrangements at a funeral home for her mother.  One of the options in the Heritage Package Plan was an everlasting memorial or something that is basically a website where people can sign a virtual guest book and leave condolences and post pictures and god knows what all.  If you don't get the mega package this item is $495.00 on the ala carte menu.  Mom said no way are we paying that.  Which makes sense since gramma isn't what you would call wired.  So I thought I would put together a small site on blogger so those who live out in the cloud could  still connect.  After getting this together my mom bought the package so this site became obsolete!  But it occurred to me that I can remember my gramma here without having to log onto the Dignity Memorial site.  More freedom for me since I don't have to censor myself as much.  In a few days I may even post something that uses the F word.  Or maybe not, I'm still my mothers child.