My special Grandma and Grandpa

These are the charms my grandma wore on her wrist with profiles of her grandchildren and great grandchildren.  My grandma passes away in December.  My Aunt Kathy found my charm and the 3 of my girls that she had charms for.  The gold one has my name on it and on the back is my birthday.  The other 3 are Amber Kelsea and Kylee's.  She had 6 kids there were lots of grandkids and even more great grandkids since she lived over 90 years.  Aunt Kathy sent the charms to my mom (this grandma was my dad's mom) and my mom gave the charms to Kelsea and this is what she made me.  I don't think I even have expressed completely how much this means to me.  I wrote what is written below on the day she died not knowing I would recieve this for Christmas.  I am not rereading what is below because I don't want to cry tonight.  I hope it makes sense and expresses just how much my Grandma June and Grandpa Hub meant to me.  The charms and this bracelet made for me by my daughter are probably the greatest treasure I own.



Today is the day my grandma died. I was so overwhelmed with emotion that it took me by surprise. I wish that I had more time with her. I am upset when I think about the circumstances that changed my life so dramatically and took me from having her as an active part of my life. It took until I was an adult to learn what an amazing person she was.


I spent a lot of time at Grandpa and Grandma’s house in Connecticut until I was four and then my mom and dad split up and we moved to Denver. And that was the last time I would see my dad and many of my Connecticut family for almost 30 years.

But Grandpa and Grandma came to see us. They came when I was in second grade with my aunt Amy. I always heard from them on my birthday and at Christmas. Time was passing and contact with my dad was sporadic but I never did see him. Then I graduated from high school, got married and I heard from him less.

Then when I lived in Texas with my husband and young daughter we got a call that grandpa and grandma were going to visit. I couldn’t believe they were coming all that way just to see us. They came and visited and admired me and my family. Grandma didn’t just walk into the room. I swear she glided like a swan. She moved beautifully whenever she moved. I had never seen anything like that in my life. Grandma was a ballet dancer. She wore this beautiful bracelet that tinkled and jingled whenever she walked. When she showed me the beautiful bracelet on her wrist while she extended her graceful hand, I was not prepared for what it really was. It was profiles of boys and girls faces. She showed me there were names on them. Those names were her grandchildren. She told me I was on one and it had my birthday on it as well. I found my charm and my sister’s. I felt love wash over me. They shared with me more things. There was a photo album of their 50th wedding anniversary party. She shared with me the names of my aunts and their husbands and my cousins. There were so many people, I was overwhelmed. There were pictures with my dad and his wife and boys as well. But what was the most significant to me was the picture of the quilt. On it at the top was my dad's name,  below that was my name and below that my sister’s and below that my brothers names, who I had never met, all underneath my dad’s name. I don’t know what I thought happened. I guess in my mind I thought I left and didn’t belong to them any more. But with this visit all of a sudden I saw a door was opened. One I thought would be never open to me. It was the door that belonged to my dad’s family, MY family. After nearly 20 years at that time, I had never been forgotten. It meant the world to me.

Then they told me the story of the candy jars. One day before we left Connecticut, I had to have been four. They had candy jars that were lined up by the stairs down to the cellar. I had taken a carpet bag and put all the lids to the candy jars in that carpet bag. Then I had left. They never took those lids out of the bag and put them on the candy jars after all these years. They were waiting for me to come back and put the lids back on the candy jars. All I could see were these candy jars without their lids for years collecting dust waiting for my return before they could be complete again.

For years after that all I could think about was going back so I could put those lids on those candy jars. We lived in Texas a few more years. I had another daughter. Then we moved to Idaho and had more daughters. We were a young family with old cars and challenging circumstances and Connecticut was far away and expensive to try and visit. My grandparents came to visit us again in Idaho. I had to ask if the candy jars were still waiting for me. They told me yes, the candy jars were still waiting for me.

Time passed some more. Grief over my father’s absence in my life intensified as I watched all my daughters build relationships with their own father. My grandparents had explained his quiet introverted nature to me. I tried to find perspective but really, even with all the effort I put into making my family and myself real to him, nothing seem to work. I agonized more and more. The candy jars haunted me. Then news that my Grandfather was suffering from Dementia came. I knew time was getting short and I desired to get there more and more. I decided during the summer of 2003 that I would go. We were waiting for some financial situations to work out. But the decision was getting drawn out further and further and time was getting short. I needed a better vehicle as well so the push came, we bought a van and a few days later I was on the road in a car I wasn’t familiar with yet. I was on the road by myself with my 5 daughters that were 12 years old to 18 months. I was scared to travel alone but I was even more scared to death that my dad would not want me there. I consoled myself that Grandma and Grandpa and all the family would be worth the visit. They had done such a great job keeping in touch with me when he hadn’t.

I got there and grandma was so loving to me. Grandpa had just been put in a home because his alzheimers got really severe. She was in agony over his absence. I came and spent hours talking with her when everyone was gone. I filled the void for her as she tried to adjust to life without his presence. I was trying to cope with the reunion with my dad, trying to understand the conflict he was dealing with and with my flooding emotions of abandonment. I slept in the bedroom that had once been his and laid in bed thinking how wonderful it was now that I could say I had spent the day with my dad. Something so simple that everyone else took for granted was now a part of my life. “I visited with my dad today.” That comment was mine now. My dad hugged me today, yeah, I could say that too. But what was the most poignant, as I cried over the years of grief with my grandma, was that she understood better than anyone. Yes my dad was still alive but I still suffered from his absence in my life and didn’t fully understand if I meant anything to him anymore. She understood me because she lost her mother to hepatitis when she was very young and not long after that her father was murdered so she was abandoned by tragic life circumstances and was raised by her aunt. She knew the pain I felt and the ache I had in my heart for the parent that wasn’t there. Even though I cried and cried, healing was starting to begin. During that trip the visit with my dad was strained. I believe he thought I would come and give him grief over his absence. He tried to explain things to me. I just wanted to build something where there was nothing and not place blame on anyone. But I started to understand, I started to see him, I saw the past, everyone in the family had suffered by my family’s departure. Grandma told me in all the years she had been with my grandpa, she had never seen him cry except for the day that we left. She told me he absolutely adored me. When I looked through her albums and picture frames, She had every picture I ever sent her.

We visited grandpa in the home and grandma told him I was there to visit him. When he answered her I could tell he was remembering the Kim that had been the little girl that put the lids of the candy jars in the carpet bag at 4. He was suffering from his dementia too much to be able to see me, the grown up Kim with 5 daughters to share with him. Back at the house, I never said a word when I was there, but I went to find the candy jars that lined the stairs to the cellar. They weren’t there. I had learned that Grandpa in one of his Alzhiemer’s rages had torn apart the cellar. The family had to put it back together. The candy jars had been moved. I did find them. In a box, on a shelf. But they all had the lids on them. I looked around some more and found the carpet bag somewhere else in the cellar. Of course it was empty. I had waited too long. It was too late.

When I came home back to Idaho, it took me a long time to overcome the mountain of information, the grief, and figure out how everything fit together all over again. Nothing was as I had seen it in my mind. What took place there was wonderful with all the relationships I built with everyone that was my family. I had never cried so much in my life. Everyone shared their story with me about the part they knew before we moved away. And everyone of them was just as broken hearted as my grandparents were when we left. Along with this new perspective came a new kind of grief. Along with this grief came a few more years of my father’s silence. It felt like after all that, nothing had really changed.

A couple years ago, grandpa finally passed away. I was in great turmoil on whether or not I should go to the funeral. My husband insisted. The weather was bad and we almost didn’t make it. We did, but our baggage did not. I was so stressed about everything, the nightmare delays, lost luggage and downpouring rain from Boston, to Providence to little Groton Connecticut. Then the crazy worry I put myself through whether or not I was welcome. We showed up at the funeral home. My aunt never told my dad I was coming but I didn’t know this. So when my brother saw me he ran to get my dad. They were excited to see me. My grandmother embraced me and I was so loved and welcome there again. I was overwhelmed. Grandma struggled with her grief but she did it with her beautiful graceful way. My heart ached for her as she ached for her husband. I stayed for the funeral and had another day to visit. This visit though was a true reunion. My dad kept me at his house even though my aunt amy was eager to have me if he wouldn’t. But there was no hesitation on his part that we would stay with him. My dad talked and talked to us. He talked about many things with his job he just retired from and other random things. We went to dinner at the Olive Garden which is his and my favorite restaurant. He has done photography for years.  Mostly nature scenes.  He shared his pictures with me and said I could have as many as I wanted. As I was there and my visit was coming to an end I realized something. My grandpa wasn’t able to bring us together in his lifetime but he was able to do it with his death. I saw that my grandpa finally brought us together. That visit was much better than the one before. And on the plane home I cried because I could still hear my dad’s voice in my head. That had never happened to me before and it was a moment I had wished I could capture and keep forever.

This is Amber, Kelsea and baby Kylee.  Grandma and Grandpa came to visit us in Idaho.

So now my beautiful dancing grandma has passed away. She is finally with her beloved husband. I never did have enough time with her. The days I have spent with her in my life since I was four probably do not even fill up a calendar month. But the time I have had with her was packed with meaning and mending. Because of her tender heart and efforts on my behalf, I have healed my own heart. I have a relationship with my father. It’s still kind of the same but I have perspective and peace with what it is. It is not perfect and it’s not a happy ending but I am happy with what I do have. Grandma is the best example of how to live with passion in your life. She loved to dance. I never have seen her dance. But when she walked across the room it was like she was dancing. She is also a powerful force, an incredible example showing how to move forward in life after great adversity. How my heart aches now, her funeral is almost 3000 miles away and I won’t be able to be there. But I love her and how I would love to see her remembered by those she treasured. She was my link to the other half of me when my father wasn’t there. But she did wait to leave this earth until that part of her family had mended. Everything she has sent me, and that she has written to me is my treasure. I know that she will always be with me. For the rest of my life all ballerinas I see are visions of her.