Dedicated to Grandma Ruth

     My grandma died today.  I'm sad.  It's not just because she was my last grandparent alive (although that is a huge milestone), but she was a classy lady, through and through.  She was a teacher, my mom was a teacher, and I know I have their teacher blood in me.  I feel glum, too, because I missed her 95th birthday this past summer due to my surgery.  I justified it by saying that I was missing her 95th birthday celebration in order for me to have my own 95th birthday celebration when it's my turn.  I pray I make it as long as she did.  95 years!  What a wonderful, long life.  I dedicate this post to my Grandma Ruth.  I love you, and I will miss you and our weekend chats. 

     I wrote the following this past Saturday, the 26th.

     Belinda and I just had dinner at Applebee’s and dessert at Cold Stone courtesy of the varsity volleyball team.  I received a very nice card with two gift cards during the banquet this past Tuesday night.  Thank you, ladies! 
    Tonight was more of an anniversary than our actual anniversary.  On that night...

James and I ended up going to see a late movie.  Belinda was going to see a different movie with the Lambert women, but we had a mix-up with the cabin keys, so before the previews even began, she had started to drive home to possibly bring the real key to the Edgertons at some halfway point.  They (all four of them) were going up for their final trip and ended up having to break into their own cabin, so Belinda didn’t have to go.  She ended up staying at home with Curt instead. 
    Happy anniversary, my lovely wife.  I go off to see a movie with our son while you stay at home with by brother-in-law. 
    Tonight was better, though.  We are back at home where we have retreated (literally) into our bedroom to avoid the small, yet loud teenage party taking place in our house.  The television is blaring in our living room as I type this, and I can hear spoons clanging together followed by laughter and screaming since another group is playing “Spoons” on our dining room table.  The table still has the leaf in it from our Thanksgiving dinner to accommodate the larger numbers.
    Grandma is still alive, but I don’t think it will be for long.  I worked in my classroom today, but before I walked in, I sat in our van frowning, brows down, staring at the tree that was planted in honor of our nurse who died suddenly of cancer a few years ago.  F.Y.I., she was a heavy smoker, though.  The tree had a small smattering of leaves that were barely hanging on, and the wind was working hard to force any of them to let go.  None did.  I wondered if all the leaves on every tree in the world fall off during fall.  Do any remain?
    I thought of the seasons and the cycles, and it reminded me of my past summer’s ordeal.  Cycles come and go, and this cycle was coming to an end for this tree, and that, in turn, reminded me of Grandma.  The song “Bleeding Love” by Leona Lewis was on, and it was strangely appropriate for my sadness, too.  I think Grandma has only a few leaves left hanging on.  When the final leaf lets go, the cycle will end.  My last grandparent, my Grandma Ruth is going to die soon. 
    And that also reminded me of her daughter, my Aunt Mary.  I remember how the priest said Mary was like the autumn season during her funeral.  He was saying people didn’t really notice her until she was gone, and he was comparing her to all of the beautiful colors during fall.  People don’t notice the trees until the new vibrant colors show themselves, and it’s at that moment they think, “How beautiful!”