saying goodbye to grace

My grandmother, Grace Trigg (my mother's mother), passed away a few hours ago. She was afflicted with Alzheimer's disease and has, in practical terms, been gone from us for many years now. But somehow that does not make it much easier. For the last few days she has been, according to my mother, asleep. She has been breathing but no-one could even pick up a blood pressure. Truly drifting away.

Here are the things she loved (as far as her eldest grand-daughter was aware):

Her children and grandchildren.
Adlai Stevenson.
Garage sales.
Books.
The Encyclopedia.
Oprah.
A bargain.
Liberal politics.
Quilts.
The land.

And here are my memories of her. Largely moments in time, from the eyes/heart/skin of a child:

Falling asleep in the seat next to her in the car, the air outside the car so hot and the AC blasting on my face (I always stayed with her in the summer).
How she let me watch MTV and eat pop-tarts.
The costume jewelry in her bathroom.
Watching her mow her own backyard at the age of 60-something in the noontime heat.
Playing rummy with her and my grandfather.
How she loved to go to the farmer's market outside of her tiny East-Texas town.
Her curly grey-purple hair.
How she had good legs and good boobs (odd-but yes I did notice this).
The taste of her Thanksgiving stuffing (we haven't gotten it quite right since she's stopped making it).
Her appreciation for peanut-butter candies and pecan pie.

I took Laurel out onto the upper deck after my mom called to say that grandma had passed. It was twilight but the moon was already out. Laurel looked right up at that moon and waved.

Bye bye grandma. And wherever you are headed, I am sure your memories are there waiting for you. We love you.

Pippin: "I didn't think it would end this way.”
Gandalf: “End? No, the journey doesn't end here. Death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back and all changes to silver glass . . . and then you see it.”
Pippin: “What, Gandalf? See what?”
Gandalf: “White shores. And beyond. The far green country under a swift sunrise.”
Pippin: “Well, that isn't so bad.”
Gandalf: “No. No it isn't.”

Phillipa Boyens and Fran Walsh after JRR Tolkien