my grandma

Last Wednesday my Grandma died and went to be with the Lord. Her name was Helen Elizabeth. She was born and raised in New York City. Here she is on her wedding day when she married my grandpa. She sewed her own wedding dress.

Immediately after their wedding, they left the city and moved to the wilderness--literally. They moved to Moscow, Idaho, where my grandfather was completing his education in forestry. They lived initially in this little fire look-out station, which was in the middle of nowhere. Once a month an old Indian would bring them their supplies on a pack mule.


It was a matter of great debate between my mom and uncle as to whether or not they were still living there when their first child, my mom, arrived. They may have 'upgraded' at that point to a cabin nearby that had a woodburning stove and no running water or bathroom. In fact, we have a great picture of my mom walking into the outhouse as a toddler. Talk about potty training! My first uncle was born in Idaho, too.

Then the family packed up everything they owned in the back of a pick-up truck and drove across the country to Alabama. I've often wondered how they did that! Grandpa drove, Grandma held the baby in her lap, and my 2 year old mom sat in between them--wow. They lived the rest of their lives in the south, where they also had two more sons. My grandmother loved nature--she grew many plants both indoors and out. She also had an amazing sea shell collection like nothing I've ever seen. She was a collector of many things.

We went to GA last weekend for the funeral. Braden officiated, and he did such a wonderful job. Here are the flowers my parents bought to go on Grandma's coffin. This picture does not do them justice; they were gorgeous.


Here is the pavillion where we had the brief internment service.


Here is the crypt where my grandfather and now grandmother are 'buried.' They share a plot (on the right), and beside them on the left lie my great uncle and aunt.

As I stood in the cemetery and looked around, I thought what an appropriate day it was for my grandmother's funeral. She was an avid gardener and loved nature. That day there was a light spring rain--not the dreary kind, but a soft sprinkle, and all the trees and flowers were in full bloom. How pretty and how fitting.