My mother-in-law passed on January 27th. She had terminal cancer, so it wasn't really all that unexpected; it was more a matter of when. In a lot of ways, a second death of a close family member is easier, but in others, it's harder.

My grandmother lived a pretty full life. Since she lived pretty far away, I didn't really expect Arthur to have a strong relationship with her. Additionally, since she was my grandmother, it didn't really matter if he had a relationship with her. What mattered was that I had a good relationship with her. I still think about her often. I'm looking forward to this summer, when I can plant a garden. I'll probably start crying as I put the seedlings in.

Arthur was much too young to understand what was happening to his Oldma. The last time we went to Washington to visit, Karen was on oxygen most of the time, but she still accompanied us on trips all over the place: the Children's Museum of Tacoma, the pumpkin patch, and the Bouncy House. Robinson and I tried to convince her to take it easy, but she wouldn't have it. I think she knew this was probably the last time she'd get to spend time with Arthur in this capacity and she took advantage of it.

January was rough. We often video chatted with Oldma and Oldpa, but since Oldma was growing so weak, those video chats gave way to short phone conversations. There were times Karen didn't say anything because she was too tired.

Everything was a blur after Karen passed. I was asked to give one of the eulogies and Robinson and his brothers would be singing at the funeral. The hardest task ahead of us, though, was not putting words on paper or singing with a clear voice, but how to explain to our almost-three-year-old son that his Oldma had died.

Tickets were booked, items were packed, the eulogy (mostly) written, and then we left for Utah. We had a few days before the funeral to spend time with family and adjust to the time change. The funeral was lovely. There were so many kind words spoken and so many emotions expressed. At the cemetery, the grandkids were given balloons to let go. Robinson's brother, Thomas, hired a bagpiper to play at the cemetery.

Perhaps the most interesting part of the whole affair was that I really realized how much Karen did care for me. We weren't the best of friends, but out of all of the daughters-in-law, she and I had the most in common. A bit surprising, but considering how similar our worldviews were, not surprising.

Sometimes the only way we know how much people care for us is when they're gone.

Blessed be.


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