Remembering our GG

I was lucky enough to grow up with 3 out of 4 of my great-grandmas. Two of them even lived across the street from one another! GG was my last remaining and just after Magnolia was born we were able to get a picture with her and the next four generations of first born daughters.

Nancy Ann Morrison, my GG, was born January 4, 1922 in Omaha, Nebraska. She passed away on June 29, 2010 in Yakima, Washington after several long years battling with Alzheimer's.

At her request there was not a service, just family gathered at the grave site to share memories. Though she didn't remember many of us the last few years, I will always remember her beautiful garden, her candy jar, her strong hugs and sassy spirit.

A couple times on the ride over, I explained to Magnolia what the day was going to look like, when we were going to play and when we needed to be quiet and listen. Each time she listened closely, but I wasn't sure if it made sense.

Maggie was pretty subdued during the graveside service. Afterward, she proudly told my mom, "Today we are remembering our GG."





After the grave side goodbye, everyone relocated to Grandma Pat's house for a BBQ and family reunion of sorts. It was a fitting location, celebrating in a beautiful garden. The girls had fun playing in the grass with aunts and cousins they rarely see.

Kaleia stood on her own for the first time and spent the afternoon practicing.

It was such a full day -- full of looking back and looking forward. Remembering the life of GG while watching my girls lives begin. One of those great days to pause and think about where I've been, where I am, and where I want to go on this journey.

Grandpa William Batiuk ~ 1921 - 2007

As you may have read in one of my previous posts, Brian's grandpa past away just before American Thanksgiving. Last spring, he and grandma moved from their long time home in Trail, B.C. to be closer to family as their health conditions, including Grandpa's Alzheimer's, worsened. Grandpa had been in and out of the hospital with various ailments since then and it was sad to see him lose precious memories and be unable to do the things he loved like golfing and gardening. But even to the end, we continued to see his gentle spirit, his wit and his love of nature.


We held a family memorial service at Brian's parents last Saturday. Everyone got to share some fond memories:

• how, even in his 80's, he beat Brian's aunt at golf
• how he always affectionately and inexplicably called his grandkids "ginks"
• how, every time the ginks would walk by and smack the newspaper he was reading, he wouldn't get upset but would just calmly uncrumple it and continue reading
• how, one time, he did something no other mortal has done and lived: stood up to Grandma :) She was voicing, to Brian's brother, her not-so-favorable opinions about the "young people of today" when Grandpa astonished him by sticking up for us
• how he would painstakingly fill out full pads of grocery store contest applications and win fabulous merchandise almost weekly
• how he was one of the first people in B.C. to work on computers, but refused to own one in his home.

Overall, he will surely be remembered for his unfailing dedication to his family, his love of children (they always made his face brighten) and his never-ending wonder for nature.


We finished our celebration by listening to and reading his favorite Ukrainian hymn and eating a Ukrainian meal (he loved his heritage). Grandma gave each of the branches of his family a Ukrainian memento to remind us of grandpa.

My last memory of grandpa took place over Canadian Thanksgiving in October. We picked him up from his nursing home so he could celebrate with us. Carol, Brian's mom, asked me if I would give him a haircut, since I regularly cut Brian's hair. I was a little nervous, but I agreed.


Although, he didn't have much hair, it still was an adventure. His diabetes made him very sensitive to touch, so I was careful not to startle him too much. The toughest part was his neck. Several times I asked him to look down. I think it was the third time when he turned to me and, unsure why he would want to do such a thing, said, "There's just a dog down there." Carol and I had a good chuckle and I decided to just do my best without getting him to look down. I didn't have much time with Grandpa Batiuk, but the times I did I saw a man to be admired and we will always remember him.

Funerals

Yesterday was my first funeral. I'm lucky, some would say. It has caused me to reflect quite a bit on death and how we deal with it. I was surprised to learn that they have a room for the family off to the side so they can cry freely. That really struck me. Why should the family who loved the person the most hide away? As I heard more people apologize for their tears throughout the day I concluded the tradition must have started out of our shame in tears. For some reason, our society got the idea that tears are a sign of weakness. I disagree and not just because I cry easily. During college, one of my mentors taught me a lot about grieving and I have come to believe that tears are an important part of the process. For those times when tears are a part of weakness, why do we try to pretend we are something we are not? In dealing with death, there is an element of weakness. So I say we should do away with those back rooms. Let there be tears (and laughter) as we deal with our losses. Another thing that struck me was a few comments about protecting children from funerals. My uncle died when I was four and I did not attend his funeral. I wish I had. I think children need to see all seasons of life and that they can handle a great deal more than most adults give them credit for. Not only that, I think by not allowing children to attend these key ceremonies we perpetuate our society's fear of death. I think if I have to attend a funeral for a close loved one while my children are young, I might ask a close friend to come to the funeral with me to watch over my children so I can grieve freely, but they can still witness this important part of life.

Catherine May Robbins

Today would have been my great-grandma, Catherine May Robbins' 94th birthday. I took the day off of school and drove to Ellensburg to attend her memorial service. It was a time of mixed emotions; there was happiness at seeing extended family, sadness as the realization I would not see grandma again sunk in, and bittersweet moments reminiscing various memories. She was a woman who loved her family, served her community, and overcame great obstacles. I remember visiting as a kid and her not wanting me to call my parents because of the long-distance costs. The grown-ups told me it was because she grew up in something called the great depression. Every birthday and Christmas for the last few years I have fondly opened and treasured away a card from grandma. Even after her stroke and relearning how to write with her left hand, she painstakingly wrote her own name. The memorial service and birthday party were a great tribute to a great lady. Grandma, you will be missed!