To Thee Lift Up Thine Eyes

Wow, it has been two weeks since I posted.  This might be my longest gap.  I have my reasons which all boil down to not having time.  I hardly remember the week before last.  Unfortunately, last week was not a happy one.  Justin's grandma passed away at the age of 92 on Sunday night.  We knew the end was near but it's still never easy even after a person lives a full life.

Her name was Irene and she was someone who no one could say anything but good things about.  My bank of memories of her can't compare to her children and grandchildren since I only knew her 14 years (still quite a few years after I counted!) but they are all good memories of kindness and her happy laugh.  When I told people my husband's grandma died I, like many people do when speaking of people who have passed away, defaulted to the usual phrases that many elderly people in nursing homes are described by such as, "she was so sweet" or "so nice".  Usually women are described as sweet and men are described as funny or "such a character".  But of course, in most cases they were so much more than that and Irene was much more to her family than a sweet and nice lady although she certainly was those things.  She was a college educated teacher, a cancer survivor years ago when most people didn't survive, and a stable force for her family and Justin especially during some very hard times in the 90's. I am, in fact having an emotional moment right now because I haven't really had much time to process this due to the non-stop craziness of the kids at the prayer service and funeral.  I hardly listened to a memory or talked to anyone because I was trying to keep kids (mostly Milo, the almost two year old maniac with no decorum) from being a major distraction. 

Back in 2004 I visited her house at the farm for the first time (she had already moved to an apartment but it was occupied by Justin's cousin) and she was standing at the stove frying homemade donuts.  I could feel the spirit of holidays and gatherings all around even though it isn't the biggest or newest house.  Those things don't really matter and I think we all have happy memories in places just like that.  We usually saw each other at weddings or church events and she always told me she liked my dress and my shoes and said she used to love to wear nice shoes when she was younger.  She would talk about attending Mayville State (historically Mayville Teacher's College) because it was near where I grew up.

Here are a few pictures of Irene with the kids.  I wish we had taken more.

This is Tessa after her baptism.  

This is Ben, wearing his hunting clothes if a baby can have such a thing! 

She truly loved kids and it was hard to see her for the last time when she didn't know them anymore.  

Back in 2010, I had a secret project with Justin's mom to turn shirts belonging to Justin's dad into quilts for the family.  I made four and one was for Irene.  His dad died in 1991.  She had her quilt on her bed and it went with her along with some other special items so she took part of me with her and I'll always remember that.  

I really had to rifle through some files to find those pictures!  I don't have many of the process because it was very secretive!  This is just the top of the quilt.

So, RIP Irene, in the beautiful cemetery in the country where your family is near.   My title is in reference to a Sacred Harp tune, Exhortation, which comes from the verse of the Bible Isaiah 60:4 (yes, I had to look that up):

"Look and see, for everyone is coming home! Your sons are coming from distant lands; your little daughters will be carried home."

*This is some new aged Bible translation-they were all listed and this was, in my opinion, the least sexist and old fashioned.  Yes, I know it's the Bible but still...of course the sons come home in glory and the daughters are carried on the hip or escorted by the side in every other version...the beautiful language is lost in the translation but I guess we can't have both.