Sunday, June 9, 2013

Have A Happy Journey Through Life



This is a picture of my Grandpa Curtis and my Grandma Shirley with me when I was five days old.   Don't they look happy to meet me?  Grandpa also looks a bit concerned.  Maybe because it looks like Allyn is about to whack me with something. 

My Grandpa Curtis passed away May 29th.  He spent his married life in the same house in the town of Pocatello, Idaho where he taught junior high math and coached basketball before retiring.  To most of the world I'm sure that sounds like a pretty uninteresting life, but anyone who knew him would tell you that he was extraordinary.  I love my Grandpa and will miss his strong, reassuring presence.  I went to Idaho last weekend for the funeral.  I drove from the funeral to the gravesite with my sister, Makenzie.  She said, "That was a great funeral!  It makes me want to be a better person."  Being around my Grandpa always reminded me that it was possible to be your best self.  I don't know if that makes sense, but I hope you know what I mean.  He was as good as he could be.

Here my Uncle Larry, my dad, my Grandma Shirley, my Aunt Candace, and Uncle Don wait for the services to begin. 
Grandpa Curtis was in the Army and received a beautiful military burial.



 
 
They had each of the grandchildren and great-grandchildren take a balloon, think of a special moment with Grandpa Curtis, and then release the balloon.
 
It's been years since my Lee cousins and I have all been together.  It was wonderful to share our happy memories with each other.  We sang "Love is Spoken Here" for Grandpa's funeral and it was a good thing there are so many of us so some people could cry while the others sang.
Later at the church we got a picture of just our family with Grandma Shirley. 
I sat next to her before the funeral started and asked if there was anything she needed.  She said, "Him." 
 
When my dad called to tell me that Grandpa had passed away, I went to my room and cried.  Harrison came in and asked if I was okay.  I told him my grandpa had died.  Harrison came and put his arm around me and let me cry.  Later that night, he brought me an autograph book that he had taken on vacation with him years ago.  Here's what Grandpa had written in Harrison's book:
 

6 Wisecracks:

Patti said...

Was doing just fine until that picture with you and your Grandma. Oh dear. What a lovely post about a wonderful man.

A Woman of a Certain Age said...

Dang it, you made me cry again!

Chelsea Dyreng said...

I love that he wrote he was 84 and 2/12. Anybody who writes their age like that has got to be special.

allyn said...

I am pretty sure bobbette was doing some sort of show for the gparent's entertainment. She was always good for that. Where is that bobbette, anyway? It was a wonderful funeral, for a wonderful man.

melissa said...

Chelsea, writing the exact age is my Grandma's thing. She always writes our exact ages on pictures and on their cards to us. She trained Grandpa well.

Nicole said...

Loved those first pictures - Dad does that same hand-on-the-forehead thing! They had no idea how happy they were to see you. You're the best granddaughter. :)

Thanks for taking so many great photos during the funeral weekend. I stole lots of them.