Sorting through memories

It's amazing how the line between life and death is so thin. One can jump across it so fast. You lose a loved one in an instant. But, after that death, the changes come...some slowly, some hitting like a freight train.

This last week I have tackled the task of cleaning out my grandpa's office. We are going to transform it into a guest room as the first order of business in all that is ahead this year with my aunt and uncle coming back for a season and helping to get the house ready to sell.

I have to say, this office was my grandpa's lair. I was sorting and tossing things and realizing if he were alive, I never would have been allowed to do it. I felt mischievous in a weird sort of way. Like I was eating out of the cookie jar or sneaking money from his wallet. And I've realized, my grandpa hated to throw anything away. He'd replace things that needed replacing...like, let's say his wallet wore out after years of use, he'd buy a new one. But, I found all the old worn out ones in his desk. And he saved not only every bill and receipt over at least the last 15 years, but he didn't even throw away the envelopes the bills came in. Whew. It's been quite the task.

But, tomorrow some guys from the church are coming to take the desk and filing cabinets into the church. So, I had to get everything ready...I'm happy to show a piece of my work:



Here's the desk area that is clean not only on top, but inside and underneath. You literally could not see the top of this desk to begin with.

But, in the midst of throwing a lot of things away, I came across some real treasures as well. I had my share of tearful moments, remembering the legacy my grandpa left and the life that he lived. Here are a few things I found:


This photo is of my grandma and grandpa in their first year of marriage. What a good looking couple!


These are my grandpa and grandma's high school diplomas. My grandpa graduated from Gilbert High School in 1956 (I attended this same school while I was in Junior High), and my grandma graduated from Biwabik High School in 1960 (where I went for a short time in Elementary school).

And I also found my grandpa's senior yearbook:


He was quite the handsome guy!


And here my grandma signed my grandpa's yearbook, full of giddiness as you can see by her excitement about being the "future Mrs. Gene Potter." How cute!

My grandfather was by no means a perfect man, but he was one who provided for and cared for his family and loved so many people along the way. It's been a hard process to sort through his very personal room, but I'm thankful for the experience. I feel like I know him a bit better. And I still miss him as much as ever.

A different kind of book recommendation....

I've not been too diligent with my blog lately, not because I don't have much on my mind, but I have felt as though I keep having the same thing on my mind. These last few weeks my grandma, my aunt and myself have begun a journey of helping my grandma move forward in a life that no longer includes my grandpa. It's a task that I feel we are all doing out of necessity (vs. desire) and therefore has had it's stressful and difficult moments. In many ways, we are protected within our little bubble of grief but all of us are facing major life transitions that we could not have anticipated even a few months ago. There have been moments that reminded me of the novel "The Secret Life of Bees" in which a bunch of sisters and friends living on a bee farm face all that life has brought them or taken away from them together. I am thankful for our moments of breakdown and tears, the arms that are always there to give a hug, the frustration or anger that we each take with a grain of salt because we know it comes from a place of deep grief and hurt, and the moments of laughter and odd impulses (like the day we burnt piles and piles of wood from the yard, keeping a fire blazing well into the night and roasting bratwurst on precariously assembled skewers).

Our pastor gave my grandma the book Tear Soup, by Pat Schwiebert & Chuck DeKlyen, which looks like a children's book but is story about a woman walking through grief. In the book, making tear soup is the metaphor for the grief and it shares the story of how this woman makes the soup...it's bitter at first and she spends much time at the stove adding each drop. People around her get tired of eating nothing but tear soup and so for a season, she eats it alone. It talks about how everyone's soup is their own recipe and it can't be duplicated, and it always takes longer than expected to make a pot. For those of you who have walked through grief, are facing grief, or have friends that are grieving, I recommend this as a beautiful resource. I cried and cried when I read it. At the end of the book there is a list of advice and resources for people who are grieving or who have friends that are grieving.

I wanted to post here the list for "If your friend is making tear soup" as I found it to be helpful advice:

** Be there for your friend, even when you don't understand.
** Be a source of comfort by listening, laughing, and crying.
** Stick close to your friend and defend their right to grieve.
** Allow your friend to make mistakes... or at least to grieve differently from the way you would grieve.
** Send flowers. Send money if you know this would help.
** Send cards. The message doesn't need to be long. Just let them know you haven't forgotten them. Send one every few weeks for a while.
** Call your friend. Don't worry about being a bother. Let your friend tell you if they don't want to talk about their loss right now.
** Answering machines and e-mail are great ways to keep in touch, allowing the bereaved person to respond only when they feel up to it.
** Try to anticipate what your friend may need. Bereaved persons sometimes don't know what to ask for.
** Avoid offering easy answers and platitudes. This only invalidates the grief. Be patient. Don't try to rush your friend through their grief.
** Give your friend permission to grieve in front of you. Don't change the subject or tell them not to cry or act uncomfortable when they do cry.
** Ask them questions. But don't tell them how they should feel.
** Invite your friend to attend events together, as you normally would. Let them decide if they don't want to attend.
** Don't assume because your friend is having a good day that it means they are over their loss.
** Be mindful of holidays, birthdays and anniversaries.

Etiquette

After sending out nearly 250 acknowledgement cards after my grandpa's funeral, I would like to give a word of advice to all of you out there....when you send a card or give a gift to someone whether it be at a wedding, a funeral or a baby shower, PLEASE put your return address on the card!! It saves people a LOT of time and hassle and it's not arrogant or self-serving. People actually want to send you a thank you or express their appreciation someway. It helps in the grieving process, believe it or not.

And I've also wondered why so many people send a copy of the obituary? Is this customary as well? Why is this?

Remembering and grieving the old, eagerly anticipating the new

The new year always brings it's nostalgic traditions...I mentally write a list of all the things that I did and that happened this past year. Many of us do. It's a good way to reflect and remember the last year. For many it was a difficult year. For me, I have to say, probably one of the most difficult. I gladly closed the door on 2009. However, in closing that door, I said goodbye to some dear things in my life, most prominently my grandpa.

The funeral was a wonderful remembrance of him. It's hard to sum up someone's life in an hour and a half. And most of our memories and our words are held captive by the tears and the ever-present lump in the throat. I shared on behalf of our family at the funeral. I felt I needed to, and I'm so glad I did. The tears fell, but I thought of how many times my grandpa has sat in the audience of my other speaking enagements, and I was so glad to have one soley devoted to him. Our dear friend of the family, Kim Sampson, put together the most beautiful tribute in photos and with music. My grandma requested that it not be posted on youtube simply because it is a personal thing, but if any would like to see it, I'd gladly sit with you and a box of tissues and view it again.

The hardest part, which I hadn't anticipated, was right at the end when the pallbearers picked up the coffin and carried it out to the hearse. For some reason, I sobbed from a deep place in my soul. I knew that was the last I'd see my grandpa's face here on earth. Everyone speaks the consolations of our hope of meeting in heaven (which don't get me wrong, that is a GLORIOUS hope, one I know deep in my spirit) but it still doesn't take away the ache of the immediate separation.

Now I have been spending my days at my grandma's house, cuddled up avoiding the below zero temps outside, and sorting and remembering and again, being pressed on all sides by that emptiness that someone leaves behind. When the front door opens, for a split second, I expect it to be grandpa. I'm still having a hard time talking about him in the past tense. But he's gone, and our family grieves together.