Good-bye Grandma

This morning, my dad called and told me that my Grandma Darrington had passed away.  I knew this was coming; when I phoned her on Mother's Day, it was clear she wasn't doing well.  And apparently, she continued to decline this week until she finally left this life surrounded by family and those who loved her. 

Grandma and Grandpa Darrington, mid 1970's

I have so many great memories of this woman.  She was a major presence in my life.  Grandma had a gift for making anyone she was around feel like the cleverest, most important person in the world.  I can remember when I was about 3 years old, driving in the car with her and singing Primary songs at her request.  After every off-key, three-year-old rendition, she would squeal with delight and ask for another.  I was sure I was the best singer in the world.  That squeal/laugh/scream could be heard anytime any of us grandkids sang a song, recited a poem, read a story, or gave her a "message" (3 taps on her forearm, meaning "I love you"). 

Besides her squealing, I have many other happy memories starring Grandma.  Here are just a few:

• the way her house smelled when we walked thru her front door (always like roast beef and home-made rolls)
• when she and Grandpa surprised me on Grandparents' Day at my elementary school in Flagstaff, AZ
• swinging under the willow tree in her backyard
• General Conference in her family room that could easily seat 50
• hiding with her in the kitchen with wooden spoons and pots and pans, waiting for the microwave clock to say 12:00, so we could "surprise" the moms and dads on New Years Eve
• wishing I could be as tan as Grandma at Bear Lake
• twisties
• sheer wonderment at the variety of Sugar Cereals in her cupboard
• freezing with her at Rendezvous Beach at the crack of dawn so we could get the best spot
• Grandma hiding an alarm clock set for 5:00 a.m. on Christmas Eve so my bah-humbug Dad would have to get up early with us
• Grandma mouthing the words to the Spanish Christmas carol my siblings and I were singing at the Spencer Family Party, even though she doesn't know Spanish
• when she gave me a pair of green high heels that she had "grown out of" (I was eleven and sure they were the most glamourous shoes ever made)
• Grandma scaring the TAR out of some poor trick-or-treater when she opened the front door and let out her pitch-perfect witch's cackle
• spending the day at Grandma's school - leaving well before sun-up, eating the ginormous lunch she packed me (complete with Sweetie-Pie), grading stacks of math papers, and ending the day trying to dig an orange crayon out of the pencil sharpener - and feeling like the Queen of Everything the whole time
• doing her hair for her when she came to visit, because she had it done every week at the hairdresser and claimed she didn't know how to use a curling iron
• hearing her exclaim "My Gads!" and wondering if that was a bad word
• singing my elementary school fight song for her over and over again so she could memorize it and adapt it for her 2nd grade class
• talking on the phone with her about the struggles Pepper was having in school, and then receiving a big packet of her best learning materials about a week later in the mail
• seeing her smiling, animated face at every baby blessing, baptism, shower, concert, marriage, and event-big-or-small that she could possibly attend

Grandma and Grandpa playing "Three Bears" with us in St. Paul, MN, 1975ish

My kids and I at Grandma & Grandpa's house in Brigham, 2005.  They didn't let us leave without a pile of cucumbers from their garden.

Visiting Grandpa and Grandma, July 2007

Grandma gave Pep a ride on her walker through the halls of the care center.  Don't tell HER she's an old lady!

Celebrating Grandma's birthday, September 2008

I think the thing that I will remember most about Grandma is just how great it felt to be around her.  When I talked, she listened with her whole self.  When I did something good, she blatantly rejoiced.  When I did something normal, she thought it was wonderful.  I remember once, when I was about 8 years old, wondering what it would be like to have Grandma mad at me.  At first, I couldn't imagine it, and then it occurred to me that it would be absolutely devastating to have the woman I thought of as My #1 Fan disappointed in me.  Later, when I was a teenager, I consciously thought that I had better make good choices because I didn't ever want to let Grandma down. 

I feel so lucky to have this woman in my life.  In my last phone conversation with her, the day before she died, I was struggling to hold myself together as I told her I love her.  She told me she loves me too, and promised that she would see me again.  I'm sure I will, and I look forward to hearing her squeal of delight when that time comes. 

I still don't want to let Grandma down.

Mother's Day

My morning consisted of a yummy breakfast prepared by Brad and the boys, opening delightful gifts, and listening to my 13 year-old daughter admit in her sacrament meeting talk that she loves me.

My afternoon consisted of trying to ignore the dirty dishes in the kitchen from the dinner I had to prepare because Brad is sick in bed.  The kids kept telling me they were going to clean up the kitchen, but as the hours wore on, I had my doubts.

My evening consisted of feeling sorry for myself because I can't be home celebrating Mother's Day with my own mother and family.  The Pity Party continued as I finally succumbed and cleaned up the dishes, which after 6 hours of sitting, had a crusty layer that required some soaking.

Ah, Mother's Day.

Burglary in Berlin

Yesterday, I was herding the children out to the car for church (actually on time, for once), and this is what I saw when I opened the passenger side door to our car:

It took a minute for me to register what I was looking at, but when Brad came outside, I was able to tell him that somebody had broken into the car.  On closer inspection, we saw that the robbers had also broken a rear window to get in.

At least they were kind enough to break the smaller window.

Well, so much for church.  Brad called the police, and they had us bring the car to the station so they could take pictures and collect any evidence.  As we were pulling up to the police station, we saw another black Mercedes finishing up with a police officer.  The rear window was shattered just like ours, and obviously the navigation system had been stolen from that car, too.  As he drove away, the driver of the other Mercedes gestured at our car and we shared a bonding moment over our common injuries.

We found out from the police that they'd had many reports that morning of stolen navigation systems in our neighborhood.  They believe a band of professional thieves came through the area and snatched as many navi systems as they could.  The police officer dusted the inside of our car for prints (I felt very "Law & Order" as I typed that), but she said these kinds of robbers usually wear gloves and they don't expect they will be able to catch them. 

Well, that's why we have insurance, right?  The nice thing about having a company car is that Brad just has to take it into the car guy at work and he will take care of getting it all fixed.  Brad says that Mercedes vehicles are notorious for navigation system theft, because something about the way they are installed in the dashboard makes it easy for thieves to steal them.  Many of the people Brad works with here in Berlin have had this happen.  In fact, when he told a co-worker about the theft, the co-worker just said, "Oh, so it finally happened to you!" 

I am just thankful that this happened when it did.  Brad got home on Saturday afternoon from a 3-week-long business trip to Brazil, and the car was broken into on that same night.  While Brad was gone, I prayed daily that nothing would happen in his absence that I couldn't handle.  So, if nothing else, the robbers were sensitive to the Holy Ghost and waited until Brad was home to break into our car.  If this had happened while Brad was gone, I think I would have lost it.  I love prayer.

Soccer, baby!

Since we've been here, we have been introduced big time to SOCCER!  It is truly the biggest sport in this part of the world, and my boys are getting caught up in the obsession.  Pepper especially loves it.  There is a park up the street with a soccer court (court, field, whatever it's called...) and Pepper would live there if I let him.  There are nearly always some boys there playing soccer, and Pepper will just show up and join the game, whether they speak English or not.  He likes to wear his winter gloves to protect his hands when he plays goalie, and they are now in shreds thanks to all the soccer wear.

Brad just got back from a three-week business trip to Brazil, and he brought the boys back these Brazilian soccer jerseys.  Lukie was very excited to have his own soccer ensemble, and Pepper barely let me snap a photo before he was off to the park to play soccer in his new shirt.  Pepper loves to "dress the part" for anything he does, so I'm sure he's in heaven today.

Dancing with the Junge Damen

This post originally included photos, but through my own stupidity, I accidentally deleted them. Despite repeated attempts to retrieve them, they are permanently gone. My heart is broken.

 

Last night, our ward had a Culture Night, where different members and groups performed musical numbers based on the four seasons.  It was all very high-brow and serious - only classical numbers were performed and everyone was dressed in Sunday best.  It was a different kind of Ward Activity than I am used to in the States, where everything is fun and casual.  But, it was quite a lovely evening, and I actually enjoyed myself (probably because I didn't bring Adam and Luke.  They would have made the night miserable).

Jessica's Young Women group had prepared a couple of dances that they performed at the Culture Night.  There is a sister in our ward who is an expert on old dances and dress, and she oversaw teaching the girls a couple of "Jane Austen" style dances - you know, where the dancers line up facing each other and walk through all kinds of intricate formations with a partner.  The Young Women (or Junge Damen, as they are called here) have been practicing their dances for months, and they all sewed dresses to wear for the performance.  Well, they all started sewing dresses for the performance, but as the night got closer, Moms stepped in and finished them, or in Jessica's case, Mom just sewed the whole thing. 

I was very proud of Jessica for learning the dances even though all the practices were conducted in German. She picked up the dances very well and seemed confident last night. Even though she wasn't thrilled about going to all the practices, I think that once it was over, Jessica was quite pleased with herself and enjoyed the performance.

And I got to live my dream of watching my daughter dance on stage!