Grandma Is Leaving Us

Marie has always been the kind of mother-in-law and grandma I hope to be when I grow up. I always felt she approved of me and the wife and mother I am. Her grandkids are important to her, and they know it. She has a great love for each one. She'd much rather chat with them about Barbies and basketball and go on their treasure hunts than discuss doctrine or current events with the adults.

For more than 22 years, she has had all the extended family over for Sunday dinner twice a month. We would play games, cards, Bocce, frisbee, pass the football, walk the bridges, feed the horses, and celebrate all the birthdays and holidays together.

She insisted on doing almost all of the food and dishes, because she was afraid one day she'd be too old and sickly, and we girls would have to take a turn.

Well, her hospice nurse has given her about a week to live, so she has decided to take half a Tylenol and keep on supervising family dinners.

She is irreplaceable, and our extended family will never be the same.











I noticed tears in her eyes as she watched her grandkids squish together on the hospital room loveseat. She said, "I'm just thinking how I'll miss sending them on their missions and seeing them marry in the temple."



Mia standing at attention.

Three generations of Evans men.

Grandma asked Cam all about school and soccer.

"Getty, if Grandma doesn't make it, be a good boy and go on your mission."

These two talked forever about "just stuff." MK said, "Grandma is the funniest lady with the biggest heart."

To Cy, Grandma said, "Hello Mr. Nike. How's basketball? Keep up on those moves. Next thing you know you'll be dunkin' on those hoops. Keep up the good work."
Cy explained how he's pretty sure he's the most awesome basketball player on the planet (or something to that effect :) We tease him. I always tell him it's ok to brag to the family.

"Mia, remember how important you are and how important you are to Heavenly Father. I love you, Sweetheart."

Mia loves this picture because she can see her evil twin in the window.

Father and sons

When Marie got her cancer diagnosis 2 1/2 years ago, one of my biggest regrets was that Elle (who was 2) wouldn't remember her grandma like the other kids would. Then, the day before Elle's accident, Marie got news that her cancer had temporarily remitted.

Months later, Marie's cancer returned and was pronounced terminal. Just yesterday, as we visited her at home in bed, McKenzie told her she felt that Elle is waiting for her.

I am anxious for them to be reunited. There's no one I'd rather Elle be with in Rob's and my absence than her grandma.

Transition

One year after Elle's death, I find myself in transition.

The past year was a matter of emotional survival. For me, that meant two things. First, maintaining a strong connection with Heavenly Father and the Savior through the basics—prayer, scripture study, and church and temple attendance. Second, maintaining moderation and balance. I made sure I got enough sleep, but not too much. I exercised 3 times a week. If I needed to leave the house, I didn't let my grief hold me back. I visited Elle's grave often in the warmer weather to help me face the facts. I spent many hours reviewing Elle's life and thinking of ways to honor her. On bad days, I'd give myself hours of time alone. On other bad days, I'd make sure I was busy and socializing. I cried so often and so unpredictably, that I just kept on doing what I was doing, so I could have a life that day. Clumpy, half-gone "waterproof" mascara was my new look.

I know where I've been, but I don't know where I'm going or how to get there. I'm at a crossroads. I see two options. There must be others, but I don't know what they are.

Option one: continue in survival mode. Spending a year with great sadness in my heart and on my mind is exhausting and painful. I wonder how long before it takes a more lasting toll on my personality. On the other hand, I can't jump ship. The journey's not over. In fact, I can't even see the shore, and swimming at this point would be futile.

Option two: put Grief in the back seat and start driving. But, then here's Guilt riding shotgun. Guilt that tells you it's not right to accept your new life. It defies logic, but wow, it is very real.

I wonder if, at some point, I could drop off Grief and Guilt and just take Elle with me on a joyride that lasts the rest of my life. Could that be done? And when?

Spring Break, 2013

April Fool's on April 2nd and "dinner" for breakfast. Now, that's an April Fool's joke (—at least that's what I told myself. I was making it up as I went).

The kids always pretend they don't notice that the "chicken nuggets and mashed potatoes and gravy" are really donut holes and ice cream with caramel sauce. And they always "drink" the green "Kool-Aid" (Jell-O).

I appreciate their efforts ;)

For Spring Break, Rob was tied up with work, Mia had plans to hike the Y with her girls' rugby team, and Getty got asked to go to Coronado with his friend's family. So, I decided to head to St. George with Cam and Cy and meet up with some of their favorite cousins.

"Evil" Cam exulting in his wicked success?

Slumber party in the family room. Megan said the next morning, "Did you know Cy rolls (violently) back and forth through the night?!" Since birth. Sorry about that. Should've warned E-town. Not a lot of sleep going on there that first night.

Meanwhile, I get a call at 1:37 a.m. I panic and answer the phone. It's a police officer.

You can imagine how my brain exploded in those few seconds.

The officer stated that my daughter Mia was out past curfew, had a passenger (Ella) out past curfew, was driving without her license in the car, and her rear license plate light was out. He tried to impress on my mind the gravity of the situation. He really tried. He even reminded me that it was a school night (Spring Break, remember?), but I was just too darn relieved. Especially when I heard Rob's/Mia's explanation.

Mia and Ella (who was sleeping over) had come home at 11:15 for their 11:30 p.m. curfew, but Rob had inadvertently locked them out and then promptly fell into a coma. No amount of door banging or text messaging (or calls from police officers) could revive him. This came as no surprise to me. The girls went to a friend's house to pass the time and were driving home when they got pulled over.

Still, it took me over an hour to chill out enough to get back to sleep.

Pool games, starting at 8:30 a.m. Cam (or whoever's "It") calls out soda flavors, sports, colors, or whatever. When he calls out your flavor, swim like crazy. He can peek, so swim silently.

If "It" sees you, he jumps in and tries to tag you before you reach the opposite side.

TruBerry fruit bowls for the adults, and...

... (virtual) Nielsen's Frozen Custard for the kids. Again, pretending for our sakes. Those kids.

Back at the ranch, Mia was Go-karting, bowling, and shopping the outlets, and Rob was making his famous malts for the rugby boys.

Making sushi

St. George temple grounds.

Our last day, with a four-hour drive ahead of me and only 5 hours of sleep the night before, I felt pretty awesome about drinking a huge Dirty (coconut) Dr. Pepper on our way out of town. Who can resist watching the newest ESPN "30 for 30"? Lots of people, I guess. Not me. It was the story of Michigan's Fab Five basketball team, and I had watched it til 3:00 a.m.

Hot pots on the way home.

The scenery was just awesome.

Is Cy standing on the ground or on air?

And that's how Spring Break went down this year.

Easter, 2013

The day before Easter about 6:45 a.m., Rob got a call that his dad had suffered a heart attack and was in surgery. Rob's mom, has terminal cancer, so . . . now what??

Somehow, Grandma's Easter luncheon and egg hunt set for 3:00 p.m. that day went ahead as planned. "Carry on!" Grandma says, full of her British heritage.

Rob trying to get a grip on his parents' situation.

On Easter Sunday, EB sent the kids on lengthy indoor/outdoor adventures to find their baskets by following their string color. This last string led them to an Easter gift from Elle.

The kids took it out for a test drive first thing the next day (Spring Break). You climb inside and roll down the biggest hill you can find. (At least, that's what our kids decided it was for.) When it stops rolling and starts bouncing instead, hang on for dear life.

Back to Sunday. Mia and Getty having a "Passover snack." Isn't Mia a cheeky one?

We gave Elle the twin of the pink bunny Cam found in his basket. Getty and Cy got pink stress balls from Elle, and M&M got pink earrings and bracelets, so they can "represent" while still avoiding wearing pink.

I was in tears in this picture. Elle's grave is such a sacred place. I haven't visited it much in the bad weather. I'm mad that I've gotten used to being without her.

The other night I dreamt that I was holding her sweet face in my hands and telling her, "Don't ever let those beautiful blue eyes stop shining.

—Green! Green eyes!!"

I was disgusted with myself.

And so it goes. One step forward, two steps back. Progress feels like failing.

I guess Mia took these pics. I was showing Cam how every time I leave Elle's grave, I kiss my finger and touch it to Elle's lips x 4. One kiss for each year we spent with her.