Monday, October 4

No title.

Tyler's maternal Grandma passed away a couple weeks ago. She was 90 years old. 

She died on a Wednesday, after celebrating her 90th with all her friends and family the previous Saturday.

I didn't blog about it, because I didn't know what to say. I still don't know what to say. I know my Mother-in-law, who I love dearly, is brokenhearted. It's easy for someone like me (cynical, abrasive, insensitive, etc) to say "She was 90 years old, it was just her time, you have to move on." But that's wrong. Death is never easy. It doesn't matter if the person is 90 or 9, it's still a loss. And losing sucks.

It is comforting to think that we will see her again in Heaven, but we're here on Earth. Without her.

It hurts to think that I'll never get to play cards with her again. She was quite the feisty card player... I have never been called a "son of a b!+ch" by an 89-year-old, until I played "Bugger your Neighbour" with Grandma, and had the audacity to win.

I was never able to try one of her cookies, but I'm told they were the best. Every Easter, Thanksgiving, Christmas, without fail if there was a family gathering there would be COOKIES! Chocolate chip ones, the biggest I've ever seen.  Her children and grandchildren would fight over them. It's true. There may have been some hair pulling and face scratching last Christmas.... Tyler may or may not have been involved.

I'm don't cry very often... I didn't cry when Tyler proposed to me, I didn't cry at my wedding, I have never cried at any other wedding I've been to, and I've even been to a few funerals and I don't remember shedding a tear.

But I bawled (unexpectedly) at Grandma's funeral. Probably because I love my Mother-in-law, and when she got up to give her speech, I was SO proud of her for making it all the way through it by herself! She was the only one of Grandma Mawson's kids who was able to give her own speech. Everyone else had a daughter or daughter-in-law read it for them, and Lesley and I were warming up the bench (so to speak), but she did it herself. The whole time, I was thinking "You can DO it, Mom! You can do it!" and when she made it through, the tears just came.

It was not a pretty cry. Some people cry, and they shed one tear and it's all glistening and perfect like a tiny diamond upon their smooth, spotless cheek...

I hate those guys.

No, when I cry, my nose gushes like a faucet, my face resembles the grimace of a gargoyle with angst, the skin around my nose and eyes becomes all red and splotchy and refuses to return to normalcy even after I'm done crying. Red rimmed eyes, protruding veins on my forehead, I get all the less-than-attractive symptoms.

I wasn't concerned about how I looked, though. (I was concerned about where to wipe the tears and snot, though, so I had to ask my husband to go get some kleenex... totally wasn't prepared.) The Bible tells us to mourn with those who mourn, and I was. I will miss Grandma, but I know my job isn't to break down and cry all the time, it's to be strong for the ones who do need to cry. Like my Mother-in-law.
I'll miss you, Grandma... see you someday. Save a spot at your card table for me.


  1. I don't have a pretty cry either.

    It's hard to lose loved ones. I remember you talking about that card game. ;)

  2. Very sweet tribute.

    I cry. I cry all the time, whether it's for happiess or sadness, but only if someone I love cries first. IF there's no tears, I don't start.


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