I’m not exactly sure how to start this post, but I know I want to remember it. Forever.
Saturday was the marked funeral for my beloved Grandma Deon Hitchcock. A day that I will never forget. Hopefully.
Growing up I remember my Grandma always being so kind and loving. Someone who would correct my grammar every time I would see her. She loved to garden and plant flowers. Every birthday we got a homemade card signed by her with a small written note. She never forgot a birthday. Not a single one. Ever.
I enjoyed playing at my Grandma’s house as a little girl. Grandma would always read me a story or let me smell her flowers.
Over the last two years, I would call my Grandma often. Mostly to talk about canning and the correct way to process food. I began to love canning and being a homemaker. I knew it was important to her and it became important to me as well the more I talked to her. Grandma always knew the answer to my questions and was eager to help me in any way possible. One night I called her asking about bottled beets. The discussion quickly got changed from bottling beets to bottling three different kinds of pickles and then onto tomatoes. I asked her if she would kindly e-mail me some recipes.
About a week went by and I received an e-mail from her. To my surprise, at the bottom of the e-mail was a small note. Nothing extravagant, but something that I enjoyed reading and hearing very much.
Grandma writes, “Natalie, I hope you have good luck with your canning. I have loved this season of the year, even when I was pregnant or had young children. It is very satisfying to be able to see shining jars of home bottled things. Love you, Grandma H. call me, if you need help.”
For the last few years, I have really enjoyed canning. Maybe this is a trait I inherited from my Grandmother. I’d like to think she’s proud of my efforts when it comes to canning. And hopefully proud of other accomplishments as well.
……………
The call came from my father on Saturday, around 12:30 p.m. Marked silence in the background when I answered. “Hello.” No Answer. “Dad?” With a quiver in his voice he said, “She’s gone.”
I tried to be tough by holding back tears, but a few came. Was she really gone? I walked into the laundry room to talk. The boys were in the kitchen and I didn’t want them to know I was crying.
Colby came in and gave me a hug. The floods came….
I tried to go back into the kitchen and finish eating with the boys. I explained to Trevin that Grandma Deon had passed away. Immediately the questions came. He wanted to know why she died, what happened, and then when he was going to die. As a little child, he didn’t understand death completely and it was a different subject to talk about. I ate a few more bites of my food, but couldn’t hold back the tears. Slowly I walked away from the kitchen table and into my bedroom. I sat on the floor and cried. I just wanted some time to be alone.
I looked out my bedroom window and saw Mt. Nebo covered in snow. The white snow reminded me somewhat of heaven. I felt a calm feeling come over me and it was evident to me that I would see my Grandma again. Someday.
The rest of the day was a blur for me. Nothing on my “To Do” list was completed and I was fine with that.
……………
On Friday, we traveled to Springville for the viewing. Without knowing what feelings I was going to feel, we entered the room. I was scared to go see her. Why? I’m not sure. I guess I didn’t really want to believe it. My Dad came over and gave me the biggest bear hug. I cried some more and didn’t want to let him go. After that, I was fine the rest of the night.
Many old friends and family members came to pay their respects to my Grandma. It was fun to see a lot of old faces from my neighborhood growing up in Springville. I reminisced about growing up next to the Gardner family and living so close to both sets of Grandparents. Those were the good ol’ days.
…………….
The day of the funeral we were late. Like always. I was frustrated that we weren’t going to make it to the family prayer in time and I desperately wanted to be there. I kept telling Colby to drive faster and “hurry up.” We made it to the church and sat down in the Relief Society Room. There were so many people there, but I really only saw one face. My peaceful Grandma.
In the array of people, I had a perfect view of her from where I was sitting. I talked to her silently in my head. I told her how much I loved her and how much I was going to miss her. I know she heard me….
The funeral service was one of the most spiritual things I have ever witnessed. I could feel her presence and her love for all of us. The love between her and my Grandfather is something I admire and something I aspire to achieve with Colby. I could feel the love my Grandma had for my Grandpa and likewise. They truly loved each other.
Although the service went longer than planned, I wished it would have went longer. I could have listened to my Grandpa talk all day about his beloved wife, the stories about their marriage, their struggles, and the blessings that come from being a member of the church.
One thing that my Grandpa talked about was “The Most Important Relationship.” That relationship is the relationship you have with your spouse. I am dedicated to making the relationship I have with Colby the greatest and most cherished one. I am dedicated to supporting him just like my Grandma supported my Grandpa. I pray I can love him all the days of my life and cherish the good times as well as the bad. There is no other person I love more in this world than my husband.
…………….
Below is the talk that my Grandma wanted my Dad to read at the funeral. Rachelle actually read it, but the words are still the same:
The last two days have consisted of rocking Easton to sleep, comforting him when he cries, holding him nearly every second his eyes were open, and dosing Motrin and Tylenol round the clock. He’s had a consistent fever and his eyes scream misery. I have wiped numerous tears, fanned his sweaty back, and wiped his runny nose. While I have spent nearly the entire two days focused on Easton, Trevin has been neglected. I feel bad I haven’t spent as much time with him too, but what’s a mother to do?
My Mom and Dad offered to watch Easton for a few hours last night while we hosted our weekly Family Home Evening at our house. Needless to say, I needed a break. I traveled to my parents house just before FHE. As I walked in my parent’s house, Easton refused to leave my arms. He wanted his coat and shoes left on. My Dad came towards us and reached his arms out to grab Easton. Immediately the screaming began.
As much as I was looking forward to finally having a break, my heart ached. Easton loves his grandpa, but all he wanted was his mom. Grandpa took him from my arms, reassured me everything was going to be fine, and told me to leave while he walked into the other room.
Finally. Relaxation and Freedom. Or was it?
While I was walking to my car, I knew I needed a break, but I was sad to leave my little boy in such a sad way. He wanted his mom and nobody else. I decided to enjoy the night and trust that he would stop crying….eventually.
After two hours of relaxing with our friends, I went back to my parent’s house to pick up Easton. I was expecting the worst. Surprisingly, my Mom said he did really well. He already had his shoes on ready to go and appeared to be excited to see me again. And I was excited to see him too!
…….
Today, it was the same routine. Rock him to sleep, hold him, check the temp, medicate, hold him again, wipe his nose, change his diaper, rock him to sleep again….over and over and over.
My parents came later this afternoon to check in on us and to play with Trevin for a few minutes. As I was talking to my Dad, he asked how the day had been going. Basically, I told him all I felt like I had done was hold Easton and rock him to sleep over and over again. Pretty unproductive day right?
My Dad looked at me and said, “There’s nothing better than holding a child you love so much…even if you haven’t gotten anything done.” And He’s Right. He’s absolutely right.
The last two days I have been so focused on what I was missing out on, what tasks I needed to complete, and how unproductive my day’s have been that I forgot to focus on something that’s so important to me. Being a mother.
Which brings up a good point. With blogging, Facebook, texting, phone calls, etc. sometimes the most important things get neglected or forgotten. Sometimes we forget the most important things are those things that don’t ring all the time or involve the internet and the world. It’s almost as if the virtual world is more important than those we love and care for. Instead of stopping our life when hearing that “ding” or “ring” why don’t we stop our life when we hear a “cry” or a “laugh?”
At the start of the new year, I set some goals more myself. I have been dedicated to those goals. And I’m going to add another one…
I have decided to stop checking my phone as often, my e-mail as often, or the status updates on Facebook. Besides, do those things really matter? What’s more important than those you love? Why would I want to pass up an opportunity to hold my child (who never wants to be held) when he is sick or even when he’s happy for that matter? The last two days have helped me focus.
I’m excited to do puzzles with Trevin more often, master my skills on Mario Kart, and bake whatever he wants to bake just for the love of baking. I’m excited to run around with Easton, sweep and vacuum the floor (because he loves that), and play cars while saying “vroom vroom.”
….because He’s right. There is nothing better.
(and I also plan to update this blog weekly. At least)
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For any of you who have seen my pantry, you know what a neat freak I am about having all the cereal boxes lined up, the cans stacked neatly in a row, and the sauces lined up just perfectly. Today, I let my obsessive compulsive thoughts be ignored as I watched Trevin build a “castle” with the goods in our pantry (along with a few other items). I listened quietly as I sat on the bar and edited pictures as his mind traveled to an imaginary place. He talked to giants and little people. He told a story about the people playing with each other and a few other things that I couldn’t hear very well. When he was finished playing apologized for messing up the pantry (I think he knows I like it neat).
For a moment I sat there thinking about how I just let him make a mess of my pantry and then I realized, he had fun while doing it and that’s all that matters. He enjoyed the twenty minutes of talking to giants and little people and so did I. I enjoyed listening to his imagination run wild….
a long time ago giants and little people existed in my thoughts as well I’m sure.
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I wish I could run to a fantasy land with my little family anytime I wanted.
Sometimes I wish I could float on the clouds and view my life from a different perspective. Am I doing something wrong? Sometimes I feel like home is my heaven on earth while other days I feel like it’s just mad chaos. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing everything right or if I’m teaching my kids everything I should be. Sometimes I wonder if Trevin can see the guilt I feel when I say, “Just one more minute” when I’m doing something other than playing with him or Easton. Sometimes I wonder if Easton still sees, hears, and speaks to Heavenly Father or those angels that I cannot see with my own eyes. Sometimes I wonder what the world is going to be like when they are all grown up. Are they doing to be close enough to the Gospel to stand the evils in the world? Sometimes I wonder.
Sometimes I wonder why I feel like my life is hard while others make it look like a piece of cake. Sometimes I wonder how I can change my life for the better. I am working on it. Sometimes I just want to cuddle my kids for hours and hours and let the fears of the world pass me by. Sometimes I dream of living in a cottage, with a while picket fence, in the middle of nowhere, while watching my kids play in the grass field nearby…
Maybe someday right?
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