Over the summer I traveled to Salt Lake for a good friend's wedding. While I was there I was able to see my grandparents. Last year I lost a grandpa and a grandma. It sometimes doesn't feel real. Other times it feels far too real.
I'm sad for my remaining grandparents who lost more than I can comprehend. My Grandpa told me how strange it has been to change his mentality from always being "we" to now always being "I". Thomas and I have only been married 2.5 years and he has only been gone 4 days. My routine has been thrown way off. I can't imagine how life would be after 60ish years with someone.
I'm sad for my parents. Mom lost her mom and Dad lost his dad. I'm terrified for that day. There never really is a point when you don't need your parents.
I'm sad my children wont get to know them in this life. I'm determined to tell them stories about the people they are probably hanging out with in Heaven right now.
I don't want to dwell on being sad their gone. I know I am blessed to have had them. I had all 4 grandparents at my wedding. Not very many people are that lucky.
Grandpa Frodsham
His presence was so calming. As he got older I knew exactly where to find him- in a rocking chair by the fire. It is the first place his grandchild would go when they arrived at their house. I loved sitting there with him looking out the big window. He listened. He always listened. He wanted to know everything. He was so kind and loving. He made you feel like his favorite person. I never felt better about myself growing up than when I told grandpa about something I was proud of. He was always genuinely excited for you.
Grandpa was a perfect patriarch. He taught us how important it was to be a Frodsham. He was proud of who he was and what he believed. Grandpa was a family man, a cowboy, an inventor, and a people watcher. I think maybe I got my love of people watching from him. He noticed things about people because he paid attention.
Grandma Marchant
My Grandma taught me how to read a hymn book. One of my earliest memories of her was sitting in sacrament meeting while she held my hand to move my fingers down the row, one line at a time. Grandma loved hymns. Certain songs remind me of her. I loved the big piano in their front room. Grandma had dementia. While she forgot so many things she remembered music. She also taught me to tie my shoes with a little story of a bunny running around a tree. Grandma wasn't afraid to tell you how it was. She was honest and I loved her for it. She made me laugh. I've been told sass is a trait of Marchant women. It is one I'm pretty proud to have. Grandma was a world class worrier. She worried about everyone she loved. It is the trait I probably heard about most around the time of her funeral. To me it speaks to the ability she had to fiercely love her family. Your problems were her problems.
I see so much of them in my parents. My Dad listens like Grandpa did. He inherited his ability to make people feel important. Mom got Grandma's ability to teach me in clear and meaningful ways, and she most surely got her sass. ;)
As the holidays approach I miss them both a little extra. I don't think family gatherings will ever feel just right again.
Families are forever.
