In Your Honor

While a funeral is a private occasion, I still want to have a record of it for my memories since the day meant a lot to me, even in its sadness. I was struck by how many people came to show what my grandfather meant to them and the awe I felt in response to the different ways he was honored was enough to make me teary if I had not already been incredibly sad.

My aunt put together a photo collage that contained old photos of my grandfather from his travels over the years. As a member of the 101st Airborne, my granddad traveled all over the world and I saw pictures of him in front of a pyramid in Egypt, in a pub in Europe and several others that I had never seen before. It was also precious to see the family photos from when my mom was a young child.

Since patriotism is in the blood, it was a a powerful image to see the Screaming Eagle insignia and American flag draped appropriately. I actually did take some pictures of the flowers people sent. I took NO pictures of people, out of respect, but the gesture to send flowers was sweet and from some unexpected people. It was a trying night, but it is also comforting to be around family and loved ones.

The next day, I was very nervous for the car processional to the cemetery after the funeral service. I thought I was going to be the last car and I worried they'd lose me or I would do something wrong. Well, there turned out to be no need for worry because I was car number five of about 15. We also had four motorcycle cops who accompanied us from Leesburg to Falls Church, VA and pretty much shut down any road with traffic so we could pass. It was a sight to behold. Ali and I couldn't believe it and made sure to remind ourselves that we would indeed have to obey traffic laws on the way back.

When we got to the cemetery the policemen were standing at the entrance saluting. Ali and I wanted to slow down and say thank you somehow, but of course, that was not really possible. We smiled and nodded our heads so I hope they know what we were trying to convey! Need I remind you how bitter cold it was on Friday? And they were on motorcycles. Brrr!

My aunt told me later that as we drove in, she saw a young soldier holding a trumpet and knew she would be hearing Taps. I had not seen him, so I was taken by surprise when, after two other soldiers presented the flag to my uncle, I heard the song. Oh. My. Gosh. It was so honorable and sad at the same time.

Thanks for all of your kind comments on my last post. You are all very sweet.


XO,
Scarlet

Hero

So...my grandfather passed away. I'm not sure I can be as eloquent in talking about it as he deserves, but since this blog has turned into a place for me to remember things, I want to be sure to say a few things.

My grandfather was pretty much the coolest person in the world. He grew up in a tiny town in Virginia, fought in World War II as a paratrooper, and then came back and started his own business from nothing. My favorite memories of him involve my thinking he was the Godfather (a la the Mob) as he sat at the head of the table and always took the bill for out 10+ parties. He loved poker and even has a framed royal flush he got one time. He told me recently that until his last trip to Atlantic City, he had never left the place in the hole. I like to think I have his poker luck:) He was a night person- whenever I spent the night at my grandparents, my grandmother would have me yell upstairs, "granddad! Gram and I want breakfast!" and he would wake up, with no complaints, even though he preferred to sleep 'til noon, and would go fetch us something. He used to pay for the entire family (that's four of his children and all nine of his grandchildren) to go Ocean City, MD every year for a week. I remember him getting into the water once. He loved bluegrass and, even though I resisted as a kid, I now realize he had some pretty kickin' taste. He visited my grandmother every day he could since she had to start living at the nursing home.

The last time a family member passed away, I was maybe 13 and it was my great grandmother. My grandfather was at Thanksgiving so, to think that just a little over a month later he is not with us is pretty difficult to process.

My mom told me that my grandmother, who has been in a nursing home for a few years (where he was his last couple of weeks), convinced a nurse to take her down to visit him the night before he died. This makes my heart warm since my grandmother can't always express what she wants in a way for us to understand. I imagine her insisting she be taken down to see him. The nurse told my mom that she stroked his arm for awhile before being taken back up. I guess he passed early the next morning.

I am also glad my mom got to see him the day before.

Here is his obituary in The Washington Post.

XO Always,

Scarlet (grandchild # 4:)

Elevator

It was one of those moments where we just knew no one would really believe our story or maybe the hidden camera crews would jump out and yell, "You're on Candid Camera!" You know, if that show was still on the air.

So my mom and I went to visit my grandmother at her nursing home this morning before meeting up with my grandfather for lunch. Well, we ended up stopping back by to bring her a Sprite Zero before rushing out of town to beat the traffic. Needless to say, we were in a hurry as we ran in and headed for the elevators to take us to the second floor. (Note: We actually ran to the stairs first, but those required a special code to get into. Seems weird, eh?) Well, instead of just pushing the "UP" button and going on our way, we found ourselves in the midst of what can only be described as a caravan of wheelchairs.

One nurse guiding about five old ladies (four in chairs and one walking) into the elevator that only ended up holding the nurse and two old ladies. So there we are, my mom and I, left standing there with these old ladies scooting themselves around in their wheelchairs and the one on foot saying, "I don't know where I'm going." Thank goodness my mom was there because she took charge and when the next car opened, she began wheeling them in, trying to fit three chaired women, one old woman on foot, me and my mom. Once I was in, and was holding the "Door Open" button, my mom decided that we could only fit two wheel chairs and the Lost Woman so she sent us on our way up one floor.

Old people don't scare me, especially these adorable old women because I recognize them from visiting my grandmother, but what does scare me a little are failing hearts and blood clots to the brain that coincide with elevators breaking down. I know, I know...it was one floor and barely enough time for anything to happen but I couldn't stop the thought from briefly entering my mind.

After reconnecting with my mom on the second floor we jetted off to deliver the soda to my grandmother so we could head out of town. My mom told me that as she backed the last old lady in the wheel chair into the elevator more had started scooting around the corner to make the trip back upstairs. My mom, with time on the brain, had to enforce a cut-off point in the line for the elevator and leave the rest of the scooting old ladies downstairs to wait for the next car.

Once we were back in our car and headed out of the parking lot we looked at each other and said, "Did that just happen?"