Two weeks ago my grandma Clark passed away in her sleep with my dad by her side. This is how I remember her best.
She always greeted me, even the week before she died and probably didn’t remember exactly which granddaughter I was, with “Hi, Darlin’.”
I have many good memories of her. Many. When we drove to her home in the Tehachapi Mountains, as soon as we passed the tree in the middle of the road, I knew we were right around the corner and I felt good. I loved the smell of the trees and sawdust and chickens. I loved the tree swing. I loved the creepy gate that led into an overgrown garden that we were warned was crawling with snakes. She also frequently reminded us of coyotes. I loved exploring with my brothers and sisters.
My parents had been taking care of her for years. They’d given up vacations and even long day outings so that someone could always be with her. They fed her and cleaned her. They took care of every need, both the significant and the fickle. They have been incredible examples to me, as have Rob’s parents, of service beyond the expected.
Grandma was eccentric, kooky, and honest (sometimes overly). She never pretended to be someone she wasn’t. The most important thing about grandma is that she loved me. And I loved her.
The funeral was beautiful. Rob put together this slideshow for the viewing. You can click on the black box below or follow the link.