My grandparents are serving an LDS church mission in New Zealand and weren't able to go to my dad's funeral. The last time I saw them was at my wedding. My grandma has this amazing ability to point out everything wonderful. She notices things to be proud of, in anyone! She was proud of me for choosing to just buy dinner rolls instead of full sandwiches for our wedding reception snacks. My grandpa has an amazing ability to make everyone laugh and his jokes are always funny to kids and to grown ups. And he could talk about bananas all day, he loves bananas.
But I remember being at the church, preparing for my dad's funeral and I was handed someone's phone with my grandparents on Skype. I could tell their eyes were a little swollen like mine. It was hard to talk to them and I know I didn't say much, but they did every bit they could to be present even though they were on the other side of the world. My grandma emailed me the other day...
Dear Molly,
(my grandma calls me Molly)
Each person's journey through grief is different, but there are many things that we share in this journey. To me it's helpful to realize that there are different stages that usually happen for most of us: the denial or shock, anger, depression, guilt, and then reweaving or rebuilding (some call it acceptance). You are never the same after a loss, but there are lessons to be learned, and as I've come to realize--many blessings that come from experiencing the loss. I am who I am because of the life experiences I've had--and so many of those experiences that helped shape my life are connected to when my mother's death--when she was killed in a car accident when I was eight.
As I look back I realize that she taught me all the lessons she could in her short life--and then there were others who taught me along the way after that. I'm sure you must miss your dad terribly. I miss him too. And I've come to appreciate him so much more as I think of the memories I have of him. How appreciative he always was--of every little thing anyone ever did. He always called to say "Thank you" and to say how much he loved us. We love you, Molly. Thanks for taking the time to talk about this very important process called grief. It's one of those things you can't really escape--you just have to go through it, like it or not. One more thought that helps me think about grief:It helps me think of it like "Waves". They come and go. Sometimes they come gently and softly, and sometimes they come all of a sudden, "Wham" and they just knock you over.
Love,
Grandma
"Music is such a special part of my life—part of me. One thing I remember about my mom is that she loved to sing and used to sing to us in the car when we went on trips. And she is where I learned “An Irish Lullaby”—better known as “Tura lura lura.” That was a wonderful legacy she left our family. There are a lot of things I don’t remember about her, but I know she loved to swim, and she was a very good dancer. (Grandpa Jim was a great dancer too. He taught me to dance—ballroom dance. So graceful—and excellent at leading.)
My mom also loved to sew and made beautiful clothes. She used a treadle machine because she thought the electric ones went too fast. Remember the little blue coat? She made that for me, the last thing she made before she was killed in the car accident. It was my Easter coat. That was many many years ago. I don’t remember everything about the funeral, but I do remember seeing my mother’s body in the casket and saying, “She doesn’t look like Mommy.” And I still remember Daddy’s answer, “That’s because the part of Mommy that we know isn’t there anymore. That is just her body. The part of Mommy we know is still alive—in heaven.” Such comforting words.
There were other things he told me that helped. He told me that we could talk about her anytime we wanted. I can understand another piece of advice he gave us that didn’t help. He told us that we shouldn’t wish her back because she was in a much better place. I knew that in my mind, but my heart ached and I missed her. I remember that there were times I wish I had done things differently. I got really upset with myself because of what I did one time. I was really mad at her and when she came into the bedroom I wouldn’t tell her I loved her. I hope I didn’t tell her I hated her, but easily could have. Anyway, I know I told her I didn’t love her. I replayed that scene many times in my mind wishing that I would have told her that I loved her.
Oh, the things I’ve learned since that time. That the memories of her are still sweet. And you can still have a “Redo” after someone has died. I can tell her now that I love her. I can ask her now to forgive me and feel the peace that comes with that as I feel as I say “It’s okay.” Heavenly Father can help if we ask Him. I can still miss her and still find ways to be happy. Yes, many years have passed, and I now have a much different perspective. As a child I didn’t understand the grief and sadness that my dad felt. know that he despaired many times—that he was depressed—angry at times, and I know that is all normal.
I’ve learned that tears are a way of saying goodbye. And they have come many times to wash away sadness for many things. I’ve learned that saying I shouldn’t feel a certain way doesn’t help. I just have to say, “Yep, that’s the way I feel. I don’t really like it, but that’s the way I feel. I won’t always feel like this, but here it is right now.” When I acknowledge it I can work through it. Then I can experience the sadness, let it pass through me and then feel it dissolve.
The years and all the life’s experiences—all the tender mercies of the Lord have been very special. I know that I was protected and guided by those around me in so many ways. Aunty Pat and Uncle Chet were so unbelievably good to us three kids. They had two children—and then went to five children overnight—when we went to stay with them during the school years. And the Butlers took us under their wing when we lived in Billings. Mr. Butler taught me how to drive—a Volkswagen Beetle—manual shift. Such patience he had. And she was always so encouraging and supportive in everything. I remember that they came to visit us in Helena. he cleaned my fridge and told me how much she appreciated that I spent time with you kids instead of worrying about the house. She was such a good support. (I should have spent more time worrying about the house, but I’ve finally learned how to keep things clean. It’s a good thing I’ve had many years to learn that lesson.) And there have been many others. Dale and Renae Pelo gave me a home during my college years—along with many life’s lessons and a friendship that will never end.
Thanks for letting me share. And I hope that you’ve learned a few things about your Grandma Donna. She lived long enough to teach me all the things she could, and the Lord has helped me learn through others the things that were missing. The Lord loves each of us. I pray that you will learn to feel that love and know it is real. His love is as real as the love I feel for all of you—and so much deeper and understanding than my finite mind can fathom. I’m grateful for that love and pray He will help me learn how to better love like He doesYou are all good examples to me. Thank you for your lives that touch mine for good."
- Grandma (Anne Maughan)
Growing up, I remember every single time grandma was around for bedtime, she sang “Tura lura lura”. Sometimes it was just to me, sometimes it was a living room full of cousins who were grumpy about having to go to bed in the middle of all the fun. As soon as she began to sing, though, we would all be still. That's something I miss about my childhood, grandma's singing. And now I that lullaby is so much more special just knowing it's from her mother.