To Whom It May Concern: (an open letter from my husband, Luke)
Not being the crazy socialite that many of my friends and family members are, I don't tend to share intimate details of my life with the cloud. However, yesterday morning my grandma Betty passed away in her home in Stanfield, Oregon after a long battle with cancer. My mom and her sisters have spent the last few weeks at my grandma's side, taking care of her right up to the end. I ask for your thoughts and prayers for my family as we learn to live in a world without my grandmother in it.
We have so much to be thankful for; if there is any doubt, ask sometime about my cousin Wyatt's life flight from Baker to Boise a couple nights ago. God has blessed our family and I am thankful for the chance to know my grandma as well as I do . . . (I guess that is, now, did). Being one of the many grandkids who lived with Grandma and Grandpa for several years, I know first hand her love and her sense of humor. Then of course, there was her saltshaker action (again, ask about it sometime).
We will remember her for Friday nights around the piano, for her poetry, and for her gravelly voiced rendition of "Have you ever wondered when the hearse goes by..." Now that I think about it, I think Grandma may have been a little morbid to sing us that tune when I was the ripe old age of seven or eight. And thinking about it more, many of her favorites were pretty morbid, just ask Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout!
Moving on... For many people, their grandparents exist as a pleasant week or two in the summer and a few presents at Christmas and birthdays. I have been blessed to have grandparents actively involved in my life and in shaping who I am today. My grandfather taught me how to work, to pay attention to the details and to not give up when things get tough. He also taught me that life isn’t fair: picture an elementary school kid playing him basketball or searching for an egg mounted inside a fence post. Grandma taught me how to live. She taught me to be honest and courteous. She taught me how to laugh, to sing and to not take things at face value. She tried to teach me about heartbreak when I was beginning one specific relationship, warning me “It isn’t just little girls that get hurt; little boys get hurt too.” Unfortunately that one I had to learn first hand. I said she taught, I didn’t say I listened. J
So this is the end… Dramatic huh? Don’t worry; it is just the end of this letter. As a Christian, I feel the loss of a loved one as acutely as anyone else. The difference comes in the form of hope and faith. “Hope” that death has been defeated by Jesus and that what we call death is really only the beginning. “Faith” that it is true. This world is a darker place without my grandma’s light, but I know I will see her again.