Remembering a Beautiful Life

I disappeared unexpectedly for awhile because I've been dealing with the recent loss of my grandmother. We laid her to rest today.

I was given the honor of writing her eulogy, so I will share it here:

Hello,

For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Tegan, and Stana was my grandma.

I’ve heard many stories about how stern and strict my grandmother once was. As one of the youngest grandchildren, I would like to extend my gratitude to my aunts, uncles, and elder cousins for wearing her down to the softie I knew and adored. I can’t recall ever getting MY biscuits warmed.

Though I came along a little later than most of my cousins, I spent a lot of time with my grandma and I’ve gathered many precious memories over the years.

When I learned of her dementia a few years back, I began compiling a list of things that reminded me of her to keep the memories alive and to have specific things to mention to her in letters and conversation.

Let me tell you what I remember.

I remember nursery rhymes, and dirty hands, and dancing through lines of laundry. I remember embroidery and polka music and picking flowers for my mom.

Grandma’s birthday was on Halloween. Each year, we met at her house in Davis for trick-or-treating. Afterward, we spent the evening with her while we enjoyed a bowl of her delicious chili. My grandma was a wonderful cook. Everybody had their favorites, whether it be apricot kolaches, buttered rolls, fried breakfast potatoes, tutti frutti rolls, or, my personal favorite, chicken and dumplings. Each and every meal was prepared with love and care. Before each meal, Grandma held our hands and said a prayer, thanking God for her family and friends.

She was also a healer. When my grandfather became bed-ridden, she cared for him tirelessly and made him as comfortable as she possibly could. With him, she showed the true meaning of marriage and partnership by dedicating her life to loving her husband. She was a wonderful role model of what a wife and mother should be. Grandma also cared for a variety of orphaned animals throughout the years, varying from squirrels and birds to raccoons and pigs. One day, in late October, my brother found a tiny kitten freezing in our barn and she dropped everything to come to the rescue. She saved Bella’s life and raised her into a strong, healthy cat who absolutely adored her in return. Speaking of kittens, my grandma LOVED them. One day, my mom and sister snuck a kitten into her assisted living facility and my grandma was THRILLED.

I remember imagination pancakes, and snapping the ends off of green beans, and watering flowers. I remember picking up walnuts and finding old treasures in the garage and saying bedtime prayers.

Grandma cared a lot for people, even total strangers. She dedicated countless hours volunteering with her church to feed the homeless and roll bandages for the mission. She also spent a lot of time mending clothes for family and friends and came to the rescue every time we were sick and needed to be picked up from school.

My grandma was an original gamer. She schooled us in euchre, dominos, checkers, and go-fish. She was a patient teacher, sticking with me even as we lost game after game of euchre and only getting —slightly frustrated— despite her incredibly competitive nature. Playing cards was one of our all-time favorite things to do when I visited. Another of our favorite activities was watching The Bachelor every week. Something you may not know about my grandmother is that she was an enormous Bachelor fan. We got together every week to root for our favorites over popcorn and during commercial breaks, Grandma loved to discuss which of our male relatives would serve well as the next contestant. One night, during a kissing contest, she turned to me and covered my eyes and said very seriously that she wasn’t sure if my mother would approve. It was priceless.

I remember fishing, and my grandmother’s perfume, and stories about the island. I remember angel food cake, and catfish, and an old, red winter coat.

I cherish all of these memories, but the best thing about my grandma was how much love she held in her heart for the people in her life. We used to have dinner a few nights a week while I was attending community college, so she saw me all the time, but every single time I knocked on the door, she was still so excited. Her face lit up and she would say, “Oh! I’m so happy to see you!” Every night before I left she’d take my hands and very firmly tell me how proud she was of me.

This is something I’m sure can be universally felt between all of us. Grandma was SO proud of her family. She held so much love in her heart for us. My sister, Cortney, recently made a comment that grandma had a habit of holding her hand and squeezing tight when she spoke to her. This was typical. Every visit was welcomed with and ended by a hug, and there were a million affectionate touches in between. Shoulder rubs, and hand squeezes, and too many hugs to count.

I remember Wheel-of-Fortune, and movie dates, and late nights. I remember weathered hands, and watching the birds, and stories about my great-grandmother.

My grandmother was such an inspiration to us. She taught us how to be strong and independent and to work hard. She taught us to be kind to others, to volunteer community service, and to help those in need whenever possible. She was a perfect role model for the kind of mother I would like to one day be to my future children. And though it absolutely breaks my heart that my own children will never meet her, I am comforted by the fact that I see her reflected in myself and in so many other people in my life. I see her stubbornness and dedication in my sister. I see her strength and persistence in my brother. I see her love and selflessness in my mother.

I remember Jeopardy, and half-sticks of Spearmint gum, and stomping through the garden for fresh vegetables. I remember tight hugs, and sorting through buttons, and splitting Milky Way bars. I remember green eyes, and a big smile, and dissolving into laughter.

In closing, I would like to share a piece of a poem by Walt Whitman.

The last scud of day holds back for me,

It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadow'd wilds,

It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.

I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun,

I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,

If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,

But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,

And filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,