Warm Hugs from Grandma

It has been less than three months since my MIL passed away after a short illness, but it feels like longer. I always used to get this gut feeling when I hadn't talked with or seen my MIL for more than a week or two. Then, I knew I would have to check in and see how she was doing or give her a non-Facebook update about the kids. I have had that gut feeling so many times now since she passed away at the end of August: I need to check in! I want to check in! I want to chat with her about our leaky roof and how Matt finally has agreed to ditch the bucket that collects the rain water most rainstorms and shell out the money for the new roof. I know she would celebrate with me! She was typically on my side when it came to things like that, where her sweet firstborn might drag his handsome feet a bit, and his dear wife (a.k.a. moi) would lovingly suggest in a non-nagging way a possible solution. I miss her support in that way. 

The holidays are looming and I haven't checked in with her. I feel her absence. She would have already asked me about gifts for her youngest grandchildren, my babies. She would have already lamented about how much work the meal prep and cookie making and house decorating and cleaning and... was and I would have told her again that it IS worth it. Even though I have only attended eight "Kumpar Christmases," seven as a married couple, I feel like I have been doing Kumpar Christmases most of my life. I just can't imagine a Kumpar Christmas without Colleen. 

The girls in the family (my SILs, niece, and my daughters) are going to gather soon to do what my MIL typically did alone every year: bake the traditional Christmas cookies. I am excited about this new tradition we are going to start. I think my FIL is happy, too, that Christmas will have Kumpar nuthorns again this year. ;-)

My FIL has been in the process of passing on Colleen's things. He sent two of her amazing coats with Matt the other day for me to try. The girls had a blast trying them on as well. The coats brought tears to my eyes, as I could "see" Colleen wearing them, especially the black one (the older of the two) and sitting out on the porch in the cold, smoking her cigarette. Ellie and I could even still smell her perfume lingering. The smell brought me right back to her house in Littlestown, in her kitchen, sitting at her table with the floral placemats, chatting, with her crazy dog Gabby barking around us. In the end, I decided to keep the blue coat for myself and pass on the smaller black one to my SIL. 

I wore the coat tonight to church and it felt like a warm hug from my MIL. It made me smile as I walked to and from my van this evening, feeling the warmth of the down. Memories come and go, along with the intensity of the emotions which they evoke. Some memories bring me to tears, especially ones the girls share. But the memories which this new blue coat evoke, brought me peace and happiness tonight. 

Matt and I took the kids and food up to PA to see my FIL yesterday. He was thrilled I kept a coat and another DIL was getting one as well. I love seeing him smile. I held back tears in my eyes as I saw my kids sitting at Grandma's table, enjoying themselves. Colleen would have been right there with them, singing her little Polish songs, and marveling at something Gracie said or Benjamin was attempting to do, or helping Ellie find the shoes to my niece Ashley's American Girl doll, which still sits upstairs in the guest room. These little bits of ordinary would have meant the world to her. 

I have thought about that often recently-how ordinary moments add up to the extraordinary. Morning snuggles or nightly story times and prayers every day over time lead to security. Daily lunch notes lead to self-confidence. The day in and day out of life, coupled with faithful moments of the mundane lead to a life-time to celebrate. 

And so, yes, Colleen! Your never ending labor at the holidays DID matter. It produced magical Christmases for your entire family, especially your eight grandchildren. Your days and nights making cookie recipe after cookie recipe DID make a difference. You created tradition and have now left a legacy for those you left behind.

I might not see you there, sitting on the couch this Christmas delighting in your loved ones, but I am grateful for a small token of remembrance of you, in the form of a warm hug of your coat, which I will wear with love and pride. <3 p=""> 

Take a "Caesura" today and love your people,
Julie