The service was really beautiful and everything, from the viewing to the various family dinners, were very peaceful and sweet. It was like Grandma was so special that everything about her, even her death, was graceful. They say she took one deep breath and then died, in her sleep. I am almost positive dear sweet Jesus came to take her hand and lead her into Heaven himself. And as my sweet cousin said, this is the first family gathering in a long time that Grandma could hear everything! I don't quite know if we get reunited with the ones we've already lost when we die, but if we do I'm sure she was happy to see her husband after all these years away from him as well.
Kaiya did amazingly well. I was a little leery about the thought of having to control her by myself (hubby was picked to be a pall-bearer, which I was happy because he was so honored and it was sweet- made him feel like apart of the family.) My sis-in-law helped out a bunch. She's like the Pied Piper for toddlers and Kaiya drinks the Kool-Aid right along with the rest. (She really is good with kids, I'm just trying to out my twin who admitted to lurking on my blog.) So between her sitting next to me and her fabulous idea of snagging some mints Kaiya only made one sound the whole service. Seriously. Can you believe it? And the sound was this cute little laugh that wasn't at a horribly inappropriate time. She did kick the seat in front of us, which I secretly didn't mind since it made this chick who was not family and yet still sitting with us glare at her. I thought: hey now, you can move if you want. But I then wanted to be sweet, because Grandma was and to her I swear probably just about everyone was family, so I moved Kaiya so her legs couldn't kick it anymore. That was the thing about Grandma, I wanted to be a better person around her. Even in her memory, I still do.
Then we went onto the graveside, which was surprisingly short, but I was glad it was because I'm not sure how much more I could have taken. Hubby and the other pall bearers put their flowers on the grave. When he did that I thought to myself: that's from me too Grandma! What is interesting is when we went to visit for Christmas we went to see my Grandfather's gave because I had never seen it and dad wanted to drop by. Grandma's name was on it and it was sort of jarring to see that then, but I'm glad I did. There was a something final about that memory of her name engraved in stone. This time we couldn't see either as the grave and a cover thing was over it all but the memory was still there. She's gone. The memories are not though.