Friday, July 20, 2012

July's 11 on the 11th

It just so happened that July 11th was the day we buried my Grandma. I wasn't sure how to get 11 pictures from a day that included a funeral service, saying goodbye to my Dad's Mother (that's what he always called her), greeting friends and relatives in tears, helping Natasha understand why Grandma was "sleeping in church," and all that is involved in such a somber occasion. But, because I am the photographer of the family and this was a day to remember, I did it.

Unfortunately, life is hard. Memories aren't always pleasant. But even the sadder days need to be captured. And we did find beauty and laughter that day. We remembered how Grandma made us laugh, her love of music and all things beautiful. So here, is July's Eleven on the Eleventh.

We asked Grandma's harp teacher to play for the service.


Natasha fell asleep on the way to the graveside service.

See, we found smiles.

And we said goodbye.

There was a meal.

And a famous cousin picture. My Grandma is third from the left in the back row.
Edited Cousin Picture


A quiet house, while everyone napped. (Except Natasha...hmm...)

Leftover pie from the church dinner. :)

Lo and behold, Daniel and I actually got to go away on a miniature date that evening! Ice cream from the little cafe in the town we used to live in before where we live now. ;) A longer, proper date, is still on the wish list.

Grandma used to say, "I love you a bushel and a peck." Now, isn't that sweet? That's how I will remember her. Please stop by my sister's post, with her memories of Grandma. :)


  1. A bushel and a peck,a hug around the neck..I tell my grandchildren the same thing. What a sweet memory!
    I am very sorry for your loss...I will be remembering you and yours in my prayers...blessings

  2. Thanks for sharing your Grandma with us. I am sorry for your loss, but I know that you will see her again one day.

    What is Dying?
    By Bishop Brent

    A ship sails and I stand watching
    til she fades on the horizon,
    and someone at my side says,
    “She is gone.”

    Gone where?

    Gone from my sight, that is all.
    She is just as large as when I saw her…
    The diminished size and total loss of sight
    is in me, not in her.

    And just at the moment when someone at my side says,
    “She is gone,”
    there are others who are watching her coming,
    and other voices take up a glad shout,

    “Here she comes!”

    …and that is dying.


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