A joy-filled, sorrow-packed weekend
February 23, 2009 | Nurturing Family
On Saturday we traveled to a little town called Council, Oklahoma. Once a thriving boom town in the 20′s, it is now a desolate rural area. There are some farms. There is a post office. There are vacant trailers with front yards decorated with tires and rusted washing machines. It is the remains of what once was.
Richard’s grandmother turned 94, though she swears she’s 100. If I were 94, I might claim a hundred years, too.
I first met Grandmother Franklin nearly 30 years ago. She was tall with dark hair and she didn’t mind sitting in the floor playing with her younger grandchildren. Her husband, Earl or Granddaddy, was warm and sweet and kind. He whipped out a picture of Hazel (grandmother) when they were married and told me that if I loved Richard half as much as he loved Hazel, our marriage would last. (It has, Granddaddy!)
Granddaddy passed away several years ago. Grandmother’s hair is stark white. She’s no longer tall. In fact, if she keeps shrinking we might be able to carry her in our pocket someday (when she does reach 100). She uses a walker to get around and sometimes tries to do to much and falls. Her independent streak hasn’t gone away. She still loves babies. She’s happiest with one in her arms.
I didn’t know my grandparents that well growing up. They were good people, just not close in proximity or relationship. Grandmother Franklin welcomed me as her own, a gift because if she didn’t like you she didn’t mind saying so.
To this day it delights me that she remembers my name every single time, even if she forgets others’. When I walked into the room just yesterday she said, “Tell that Suzie in her red coat to come here and talk to me.” Sometimes it’s “My Suzie”. Maybe she likes everyone else just as much. Probably so. But it’s a gift when a person makes you feel like you’re special.
Several people came to the party. She was Aunt Hazel to some. They told stories of hanging out at the farm. Aunt Hazel’s was the place to be. Others were neighbors that remembered them as the couple who would do anything to help.
She had daughters and SIL’s and the boys that were the sons of her own son who died way too young, years and years ago. (Bobby and Billy are pictured above – Bobby is beside her, Billy behind her.) She had grandchildren, and great-grandchildren, and even one great-great grandchild, Kinley.
In the midst of celebrating we got the news that my sister-in-law had lost her daddy. Only 69. A good man. Another large family patriarch who according to his daughter-in-law, was even closer than her own daddy. He knew how to love. That much is clear.
So this weekend contained joy. Life. A 94-year-old celebrating her 100th birthday (her daughter just couldn’t convince her otherwise) and an almost 5 month old great-great grandchild who is her legacy. Time with my family — my six beautiful children. (A pic taken on the steps of the old white church in Council Hill.)
And sorrow. Saying goodbye to papa Howard who loved his girls like crazy, who was outdoors setting traps the day before he had a stroke, to his sons who look like him, and his grandchildren who are marked by his love.
It’s joy mixed with sorrow, and then more joy because there is reality of Heaven. Perhaps even now Howard Lee is fishing or plowing a garden, waiting for everyone to come join him when it’s time.
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Awww. You brought tears to my eyes. Thanks for sharing your pictures. It sounds like you have a wonderful extended family. I wish I was as fortunate. Our family is so small. The few of us don’t even all see each other. Quite sad really. I wish I would of had more children. I will probably have to adopt.
February 23rd, 2009 at 1:49 pmHave a great day.
Suzie,
February 23rd, 2009 at 6:29 pmI’m so sorry for your loss. It sounds like such an emotional weekend. You and your family are in my thoughts.