Grandma Evans

October 10, 1940 - May 10, 2013

I've been waiting on more pictures before I posted about Rob's mom's passing, but I'll just add them later. 

Viewing
MK's wearing one of Grandma's shirts that she altered.


My little sis with her Avery and Bentley

Rawlin's sisters, Aunt Julene and Aunt JoNell

M&M switching faces

Funeral Service
[excerpts taken from AnnMarie's eulogy of her mom] "Born in Northern Ireland and raised in England during World War II, Marie spent time underground in bomb shelters with gas masks. Once, she and her family emerged from the shelter to find their home had been bombed and destroyed.

[Pic: Cousins' corner.] "Marie spent countless hours taking grandchildren places, going to games, taking them shopping for things their mom and dad wouldn't buy them, doing puzzles, going toilet-papering, reading books, playing puppets, having paintball wars, and simply talking to them.



[Above, Cousin Sarah looking fab in Marie's hat.] "Marie was a shopper. Five weeks before she passed away she spent hours looking online for a new rug for her front room.

"Marie would often shop with AnnMarie, but once it hit dinner time, Marie would say, 'I have to leave to get home to make your dad dinner.' Ann would try to convince her he was a big boy and could make something on his own, but Marie always insisted.

[The powder blue mortuary limo]

Interment
"Some days Marie would spend so many hours working in her 'English garden,' Rawlin would ask if he needed to put up a flood light so she could work through the night.
[Love the bagpipes!]

"Marie served as a missionary to the Alaska/Canadian mission, which is where she first met her future husband, Rawlin. Rawlin is an amazing pianist and a very easy-going, mild-mannered person, but sometimes he uses the piano to relieve stress. The first time Rawlin and Marie met, Elder Evans was in the chapel before a missionary meeting playing the piano and relieving some frustration. Marie heard the piano and followed the sound to him. He stopped playing to see what she wanted. In her beautiful English accent and with her fiery red hair she said, 'You know, this is a beautiful piece of music you are playing, but you are ruining it by the way you are pounding on the piano.'"

Marie requested that Rawlin play their song, "Ebb Tide," on the piano at her funeral service, which he did beautifully.
[daughter AnnMarie, Rawlin, and granddaughter Ashley]

The girls all wore Marie's British hats in her honor

Bella and Sophie with M&M

John and Catia

The boys place their boutonniere's on the casket

The men wore green ties in honor of Marie's Irish heritage

Mark and Cindy, Ni, Abby, and Soda

The week before her death when Marie was a little out of it, she picked out one of her sophisticated black dresses for Ann to wear at her funeral and then told Ann and Mark, "And I have a black mini skirt for Mark to wear."

Ann offered to pay Mark $100 to wear it. Ashley offered to pay him $100 not to wear it.

On the long drive from the burial place back to the funeral luncheon, the boys drove in the limo, while Rob and I and the girls drove together and listened to music on Mia's iPod.

Rob: "Oh! This is my favorite of the Bare Naked Ladies."
Me: "I thought I was your favorite bare naked lady."
He agreed, and M&M giggled in the backseat.

Luncheon

Getty's suspicious of me...

It was a beautiful day and a beautiful tribute to our amazing Marie.

You know how Families Are Forever?

Well, forever includes now, right?

Sometimes I get the feeling that Elle is ticked that we act like she's not around.

Ha! That would be so like her.  

The thought makes me smile.

Father's Day

Candy bar poster for Dad. (He always eats the Skor immediately :)

And two more for the grandpa's.

So, a little about Rob... (with his permission):

After a 4 1/2 year hiatus, Rob's extroverted personality is back. The anxiety that sprouted out of the economic downturn, our move, and the struggles of his new business venture turned to depression as he transitioned back to his former job in a different capacity and was prolonged and magnified by grief as he faced the shock of Elle's accident and loss and his mom's terminal cancer.

But in January, the dark clouds over Rob's head parted. The younger kids haven't known him like this—the Rob I have known for most of our marriage. The Rob that is interested in everything, curious about everything. The Rob always on the go and managing several tasks at once. The one that is distractible—that walks out of the room in the middle of a conversation, but somehow convinces you he's still listening. The one who greets you with a big hug and a laugh. The one that honks just for fun to the beat of his car stereo. Even little things like his characteristic expressions have resurfaced, like "To be honest...."



He has always loved music, but we rarely go to concerts. For Valentine's Day, he took me to a local one called "the Love concert" and afterward asked me, "So how often would you enjoy going to a concert—like once a year?" I nodded, thinking that was probably too often for me but wanting to accommodate him. I asked him the same question. He said, "I could go to a concert like that every weekend."

My sunny, sociable, headstrong, confident, and energetic Rob is back!

We love you, Hon!

Stuck

The other night, I had a dream that I was in a car pulling into a miniature garage. A giant car trying to fit into a tiny space, like in "Alice in Wonderland." I looked up the dream interpretation, curious to get some insight into my state of mind. The definition read, "... stuck."

I do feel stuck.

After a year of hard grieving, I knew it wouldn't go away, but I need it to. It's been such a long time to feel great sadness, have nightmarish thoughts, and be triggered to tears at the sight of every 3 to 5-year-old blonde girl. I wish I could take it off my shoulders and run like the wind, but it's not something you can walk away from.

I had another dream. Four men stood outside my door. I hurried and locked them out, afraid they would hurt me or even just infringe on my solitude. Sometime later, I decided to let them in. It was my dad, flanked by 3 super heroes. They had come to my rescue. I almost knocked my dad over as I rushed at him and leaped into his arms. I haven't seen him in almost 13 years.

It made me wonder if I am shutting people out of my life who could be a great blessing to me. I've needed the alone time while the kids are at school, but all that solitude can shrink your world. You lose objectivity. You forget that other people are struggling with their own problems. You miss out on their validation and insight and inspiration as you hear their stories.

It also made me think my dad is leading the charge in my family's battle with grief.

I love you, Dad.

Mother's Day

Mia's Mother's Day card to me:



Plus, this questionnaire:

Cam's Mother's Day poem for me:

Cam made this awesome picture holder for me.

And this was from Cy:

Don't tell Cy I buy the bread bowls.

Just for Mom Tickets:
"Free high five whenever"
"A free night out with me twice"
"Free hug" (I asked for a sample).


The rest of the kids take me for granted ;)



Rob bought me flowers for our porch planters and a spiral spruce to replace the one that died.

Rob and all you kids, you are the reason I love my life and look forward to eternity.