Celebrating My Grandmothers

My baby shower, October 2011

This weekend, two monumental events happened in my family. First, Grandma Dorothy--better known to friends and family as Mamie--who is to the right of me in the picture above, passed away on Friday. She was surrounded by love when she passed, just as she has always been surrounded by this big, wonderful, loving family she created with my Grandpa Lee. On Wednesday, she had a hemorragenous stroke while she was up north with my Aunt Deb. The hospital in Iron Mountain flew her down to Milwaukee for specialty care. Her daughters and sons, my aunts and uncles, who were all on the road to Michigan as soon as they got the news, turned their cars around and headed back down south, past Green Bay and straight on to Milwaukee to be by her bedside. Each and every one of her living children spent time with her while she was alert; they prayed with her, they joked with her, they held her hand, and finally, they all said their goodbyes. And as my Uncle Lee put it during her service, they all had the ultimate closure: They were each able to say I love you, Mom, goodbye, and she responded I love you, to each one of them.

My grandma, having eleven children of her own and fostering another, was a giver. She doted on her family, she put others before herself, and she never expected any recognition from anyone in return. She was the iconic selfless mother. And just as she was a dedicated mother and wife, she was a devout Catholic. She prayed the rosary every day, went to Mass religiously, and got down on her knees at her bedside each night, even at 83 years old, and prayed. She was a good soul. The Deacon who gave the service this week was right when he said she will be welcomed to Heaven with arms wide open. "Finally, you're home," is how he put it. And he's right. My grandma relied on her faith so heavily that it's hard to imagine any other ending for her. While I'm grieving her loss, I'm also glad for her to be at peace and with her husband, my grandpa, who died so many years before her, as well as her two sons, who also passed before her. She was welcomed with open arms, wherever that place might be.

The other monumental event happens to be another celebration of life: My Grandma Jackie (to the left of me in the photo above) turned 90 years old on Sunday. What a landmark! I've been awed by my grandma's spirit throughout her life. After my Grandpa Glen passed away, she devoted her days to visiting friends who couldn't get out. She'd visit at least one nursing home each day, pick up homebound friends for Mass, or head over to the senior center for bingo. Up until 3 or 4 years ago, she was completely independent. Unfortunately, she has dementia now and is not quite as willing or able to leave her assisted living center often, but I take comfort in knowing she has lived such a long, full life.

My Aunt told me a story while I was home about my grandma that I think perfectly captures her spirit: As soon as it gets dark, my grandma puts her nightgown on--which happens to be an oversized shirt that just covers her behind--even if that means she'll head out to the dining room for dinner in it. My aunt visited on one such occasion recently, and she scolded my grandma for showing her skin off the way she was in front of the men. My grandma shrugged, saying they could look all they want. A cheeky man piped up and said he didn't mind much. My aunt laughed and said she was going to put some pants on her herself to which my grandma quipped, "You'll have to catch me first!" THAT is my grandma. Her spirit shines through no matter her age or cognitive disease.

I spent three quick days in Wisconsin this week for the wake and funeral of Grandma Mamie, and in spite of the sad reason for an unexpected trip home, I am so thankful for the time I spent with my family. And really, it was more of a celebration of life than it was mourning a loss. Family shared great stories about my grandma's life during the wake, the Deacon gave a very personal, touching (and funny!) service, and a bunch of the Herlaches headed over to Kroll's for drinks and dinner afterward. We laughed, telling old stories from the past--primarily about Uncle Jim, the old trickster. Grandma Mamie will be missed tremendously, of course, but I'm glad for the big family she left behind--it was her greatest gift of all.

The celebration of my two grandmothers: A reminder that life is both beautiful and hard.