I'm sorry your birthday landed you in the hospital. Having recently spent some time there myself I'd like to encourage you to embrace all the perks of the situation: order desert at every meal and take a break from wearing a bra. You've earned it!
I feel so grateful for the time we've been able to spend in your home recently. I have loved asking you questions about your life. I love your little window into the past century that you've allowed me to peek into. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and experiences with me. I find myself in the grind of raising five young children-something you are well acquainted with. You told me during our last visit that your biggest regret was not playing with the children more. That you always felt like the house had to be clean and the laundry done before you could do that. My Mom echoed that sentiment. I struggle daily with the same inclination. I figured if that's what you regret at age 92, and that's what my Mom regrets at age 72, I'm going to learn my lesson at age 32. I'm happy to report that my floors have been stickier and my laundry piles higher, but there have been more puzzles. More snuggles, more books and songs and games. I've checked less boxes off my lists but I figure as long as I'm hitting the most important ones, I'm winning. Thank you for teaching me that. I've heard it all before but that conversation changed me. If that was all I ever gleaned from you it would be absolutely invaluable.
But the truth is, there is no way for me to ever really express the full impact you have had on my life.
You raised my Mom, the most faithful and selfless person I know. She is a soldier. She knows how to walk through dark valleys and scale mountains, with no promise of reprieve on the other side. She just keeps going, and she does it gratefully. And I've come to realize, I think she got that from you. I appreciate your example of strength and endurance. More specifically, I appreciate the way you endure. Your humility, your faith, and your optimism. I think so many of us are just eeking our way through trials and the unknown. Your graciousness is a gift to us all.
I named Anabelle after you and my Mom because I have come to know something of your quiet strength, and I want that fiercely for her. I know that she will face heartaches and sorrows in her life. The only thing that makes thinking of that bearable for me, is to know that she has had faithful women go before her, who have carved out a beautiful way to live. It is to follow the Savior, gratefully. That's all I want for her. Thank you for helping to write that on her heart by quietly living the gospel.
I recently read an article in the NY Times that reported that the number one predictor of a child's resiliency is how well they know their family stories. It mattered more than education, money, health, family circumstances. Researchers discovered that if a child knows the trials of their ancestors and saw how they got through them, it was a strong predictor that the child felt a sense of that same strength. Thank you for living your life in such a way that I have good stories to tell. Thank you for raising my Mom to be the same. Your life and example have blessed generations.
I love you Grandma. Wishing you many donuts today.
xoxo, Julie
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| At your 90th birthday party |
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| This is when we were moving from Florida to Utah. We had planned to stop and stay with you on the way but I had sick kids. I called to let you know that we would stay somewhere else because we didn't want to get you sick. You said to come anyway. You gave my kids money to go to the candy store. As I recall, you spent the next week sick with the stomach flu. |
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