Memorial Day

Growing up Memorial Day was just another holiday that we loved. The reason we loved it so much was because it meant the beginning of summer and school was out. We loved that we were able to sleep in, except the few years that Grandpa Christensen (my dad's dad) would have us meet at the cemetary and tell us stories that seemed oh, so boring. Little did I know that I was missing out on some very interesting life history stories of our families. If we only knew then what we knew now, right?
Memorial Day became something different to me about 7 years ago. I guess when you lose someone that you are very close to, it changes the holiday forever. My dad passed away 7 years ago this July. What a life changing event to go through. We miss him terribly and we are so grateful for the time that he was here with us. We are grateful for the Gospel and the knowledge that we will be together with him again. There are still many times that I think of my dad and wonder what life would be like with him here. I know that my kids would just adore him and he would adore them. I know that DH would still insist on weekends in Delta so he could play golf with my dad. I know that Dad and Mom would spend many weekends with their grandchildren. Time has healed some of the pain, but you still ache to hear his voice, hug him and even the occasional "rock a bye" on "his chair" is missed.

We went to Delta for a quick trip yesterday after church. My mom came along and we spent a few hours playing dominoes with Grandma B and then we went and decorated Dad's headstone. The night before we went to the store to find something that the kid's could place for Grandpa C. I looked at the flowers and thought maybe. I looked at the fake "grandpa" flower things and thought no way. I ended up wanting personal that each of the kids could make (well, at least the girls) and would look cute. I came up with the posters.

Sunday morning, before church, DD#1 and I sat down and wrote her letter to Grandpa C. She, of course, wanted to write about anything that she saw. She wanted to tell him how grateful she was for the pencils, for the posters, for the paint (that she was going to use) and so on. I had to guide her in the right direction. She came up with most of what it said. *** Side note...I was hesistant to put on their that she can't wait to see him again, because part of me is a little superstitious. I couldn't bare the thought of losing my children. So, she can't wait to see him again, but only after a LONG life filled with children, grandchildren and great-granchildren. There now I can be okay about it.

DD#2 didn't say too much, but we helped her along as well. She loved placing her hands in the paint and was sure proud of her poster to Grandpa C.

And, of course, DS didn't really say anything at all. I didn't even get around to doing his hands. I thought it was just too hard with his newborn jerks to try and keep us all clean.
We got out to the cemetary around 8 pm. It began to rain as we entered the entrance. DH stayed in the van with DS and the rest of us got out and decorated the site. I wanted to get some cute pictures of my girls, but the rain was coming down pretty good. So we got a shot and we stayed a few minutes and then ran back to the van. DD#1 kept asking my mom why she was crying. She just didn't understand. It is hard for an almost 4 year old to understand that her grandpa is in Heaven, when Grandpa R. (my mom's husband) is here and healthy. Here little feelings for everyone got the better of her and she began to cry.

It was nice to visit and see my family. It was nice to return to my dad's headstone and remember many, many things. Not one day goes by without remembering him, but we do know that we will see him again. Thank heavens for that knowledge.