This year I attended almost as many funerals as I have been my whole live so far! And I couldn't even make it to all of the funerals of people who passed away in my surroundings.
I was especially shocked when my husband told me that a very dear vendor of ours collapsed at her desk - at age 40!
Only a couple of weeks prior to this, a customer whom we liked a lot, passed away as well.
Our neighbor was able to leave his pain and suffering behind, then my father in law went to be with his late wife.
Last week it was my "almost second Grandmother's" turn.
On Sunday, my parents had called her to congratulate on her name day, and she sounded cheerful and well.
Two days later she passed away at her nursing home.
Today, on this more than somber, foggy day, was her funeral.
What do I mean by "almost second Grandmother"?
When my Dad was 12 years old, his Mom died. He is the oldest of four kids, the youngest was only 6 back then. His Dad had to hire a housekeeper / nanny.
She was 25 when she took the job, and as the years went by, she became a valued family member - so much that they were supposed to get married, but then my Dad's Dad passed away.
This all happened before I was even born.
Either way, even when she moved to a different state, took a job at a hospital and met her husband, she kept in touch with "her children", and when she retired, she started the tradition of inviting her children and their children (of which I am one), and later the little ones (of which Colin has been the only one living in Switzerland) to her birthday lunch.
She would wear her Sunday or special occasion clothes and enjoy good food, a glass of wine, and especially the company of her loved ones.
Interesting fact is that she, my "real Grandma" and I share the same birthday, so it was always fun: "Hi, hello, happy birthday!" "Yeah, hi, thanks - you, too!"
So maybe us sharing our birthday has something to do with having similar personalities, because what the priest, my Dad and his brother = my uncle who talked about her at the funeral service, said, was pretty much what I hope people will say about me when I die:
"She was a wonderfully warmhearted lady, always smiling and spreading joy, even when things were looking grim. She was interested in and cared about the people and things she loved, and she was able to create much out of nothing. She made us to the people we are today. Plus she was an excellent cook, - man, the cookies she used to make for Christmas!"
I especially liked the following remark that the priest made: "you may be wondering what heaven looks like, the place she is on her way to - but don't look to far, cause she's created a little piece of heaven for you here!"
I can't publish just yet.
Call it a yin / yang thing.
We need something uplifting, right?
The funeral took place in Lucerne, which is about an hours' drive. After church we went to the cemetery, and from there to the reception at a nearby restaurant.
Meaning I had to figure out what to do about Colin. Hubby agreed to leave work in order to go home and make lunch for him, and I had asked my next door neighbor if he might wait at their place in case I didn't return in time before he came home from afternoon class.
No need. My parents who were driving, dropped me off at his school just in time. I was waiting across the street - in case it was embarrassing for him.
To my delight the delight was all his.
"Mooommmmy" he shrieked and came running.
Walking home with his friend E and C made my otherwise very sad day!