Lovely lady

Life has a wondrous way about it. Yesterday morning, my mom said that the sunrise was just breathtaking — she'd taken Pip Squeak out for a walk and was soaking in the glory of the early hours and said a silent "Thank you for this beautiful day" to God.

I woke up as usual and headed into work only to get an email on my phone as I headed into the office — an email from a dear friend who had been somewhat absent in my life of late. In it, she attached a picture that she said reminded her of me (see left). My heart was warmed, and I said a silent prayer of thanks for friends — and for people like Roald Dahl who say such wonderful things.

It wasn't too far into my typical Tuesday routine when the phone rang — my mom. I thought maybe she was calling to suggest a lunch date or to tell me something small but thrilling. Wrong on all accounts — it was my grandma. She'd passed away in her sleep. I was floored. This woman — this vibrant, beautiful, enchanting woman — had been as alive as ever just a few short weeks ago when my mom and I made her tomato soup, grilled cheese sandwiches, and we all watched "My Sister Eileen." We put granny smith apples on the sandwiches, as we'd seen in a Martha Stewart magazine, and Grandma kept commenting with every other bite, "Ooh! There are apples in here! I've never had a sandwich with apples before!" (She was a bit forgetful, but that was her greatest fault at 88 — and that's saying a lot.)

It's funny that she picked November 1st — All Saints Day — as her day of departure from this life. Her beautiful soul is now free to be honored with all other saints and angels. This was a woman who adored her family, lived life to the fullest, and constantly reminded me to settle only for the deepest, truest love with some wonderful man — a man as wonderful as her husband and my grandpa. What will I remember most about her? Let me count the ways. Her favorite flowers — Gerber daisies. Her favorite color — coral. Her ability to laugh at herself and to jokingly scold her sons for their goofy ways — only to break down into fits of laughter in the end. She was giving, devoted, and honest. Proud of her family — her eight children, her faithful husband, and (as she often recounted) her adoring parents whose love for each other truly shaped her world. And she, in turn, shaped ours.

My Uncle Charlie said yesterday that while he's at peace with her passing without suffering, it's the silence that will be deafening. Grandma was such a glowing presence — the nucleus of our large extended family who lit up the room just by being in it. It's ironic that her passing might bring us even closer together, with sons and grandsons and great-grandchildren flying in from all across the country. In a way, this makes her passing bitter-sweet. She will be missed, but she didn't suffer. It won't be the same without her, but the rest of us will be together for a few days, and that is something I will cherish always.

On my way home from work yesterday, a song came on the radio — the Flaming Lips' "Do You Realize?" Sometimes in college, when I missed my other grandma (my mom's mom, who passed away in 2005) terribly, I would put my iPod on shuffle and beseech her spirit to send me a message with the next random song. On more than one occasion, I recall being blown away by the message she sent me — be it real or fabricated in my mind, it always was a lovely thought that someone could speak to me through time, space, and music. So yesterday, when this Flaming Lips song came on 88.9, I couldn't help but be brought to tears — it was so fitting, so beautiful, and felt like such a real message from my just-passed grandma that the magic couldn't be denied. The lyrics are as follows:

Do you realize — that you have the most beautiful face?
Do you realize — we're floating in space?
Do you realize — that happiness makes you cry?
Do you realize — that everyone you know some day will die?

And instead of saying all of your goodbyes
Let them know you realize that life goes fast
It's hard to make the good things last
You realize the sun doesn't go down
It's just an illusion caused by the world spinning 'round

Amazing isn't it? And for me, while the entirety of the song is amazing, the line "instead of saying all of your goodbyes" really stood out, because I didn't get to say goodbye to my grandma. The last time I saw her, I remember giving her a very speedy farewell and scampering out the door, impatient to go home and get to bed. This song — again, be it true magic or pure fabrication in my mind — is her way of telling me that it's okay. To just live my life and soak up the good things — like emails from dear friends or glorious morning sunrises. And life doesn't end — death is just an illusion — just as the sun doesn't really go down, it's just the world spinning 'round. So another day, another grandma in heaven — but I must say: My grandma sure picked a magical way to bow out of her truly magnificent life.