Farmor

This is my grandmother. Wasn't she beautiful? I went to Sweden for her funeral a few weeks back. Although I was very glad to be able to be there, it was also, obviously, very hard. I was always very close to my father's mother. I have written about her before. I will miss her so much - I still don't really understand that she is gone. Since I have lived so far away from her for so many years and only seen her once or twice a year, it makes it even more unreal. I think it will truly hit me when we go for our annual summer trip to Sweden this year...when she's not there to greet us with open arms.

I made the trip for the funeral by myself. Emma is not well enough to travel on an airplane yet and Henry would have been absolutely miserable to spend 2 days out of 4 traveling. Dan stayed home to take care of the kids so I would be able to go. My brother and sister also went - it felt so right that we could all be together. It was strange being in Farmor's apartment without her. It still smelled the same and I could picture her, rushing around, making sure everyone had enough to eat, answering the phone that was always ringing and keeping busy, always keeping busy. It was so empty now.

My grandmother had planned her funeral and the reception afterward. She was very much at peace knowing that her end was near. She had spoken to my father at length about details such as what hymns she wanted sung. When the meal after the funeral was over, she wanted all of us to stand up and hold hands while singing a song that was special to her. I truly felt that if I had just looked a few seats down that table from me - there Farmor would be, singing along with us.

I cried a lot that weekend.

I am so happy that I have such wonderful memories her - she will always be a big part of my life.

I miss her.

Farmor and me.