My Grandmother died on December 3, 2010 at the age of 94. Even though she was 94, her death was sudden and a shock of sorts to our family. She was in good health, except for the broken pelvis she had suffered after a fall the week before. She had been transferred from the hospital to a rehab facility and had begun a rigorous routine of physical therapy in hopes of returning home for Christmas. In the evening on Friday, December 3, she lost consciousness and passed away about an hour later. I suspect that she felt that her life was complete, and picked that time to go.

Since that time, I have struggled with a way to pay tribute to her life. She was truly an incredible lady. Her life spanned nearly a century, during which she witnessed incredible transformations in our way of life and monumental world events. Unlike many women of her generation, she was a very independent woman, somewhat out of necessity, having lost her husband in 1965, when her children were 18, 15 and 13. I always thought that it was this loss that made her so, but have learned in the past years that she apparently was always an independent sole.

Grandma wasn't a "Talker". She really didn't tell us much about her own life, and really never liked us to ask questions. I learned in the mid 1990's that she had travelled across America in 1939 with three of her friends to see the Golden Gate Expo in San Francisco. This bit of information was shared in one paragraph of an article which was written about her in the local Office for the Aging's monthly newsletter. She never talked about this trip, except to say that she didn't like riding down the Grand Canyon on a Mule. In the mid 1990's, the "coolness" of this was sort of lost on me. As I have aged a bit and travelled to the West myself, the "coolness" of this amazes me.

Finally, in 2009, I asked my Grandma if she had any pictures from her trip. She said, "why, of course", and went to her cedar chest, picked out a scrapbook and gave it to me. At that point, her vision was failing her, and she couldn't really tell me about the pictures, but she let me take it home with me. What I found when I sat down to look at it was amazing. Not only were there pictures, there were maps, stickers, brochures and cards from all their stops along the way. Best of all was a story written by one of the travelers (I don't know which one) chronicling the trip.

In the months since her death, I have decided (along with my family) that this scrapbook will be my tribute to my Grandma. I will be publishing the journal, but there is much in it that will not fit into the book, and which I will post on this blog. To me, this trip that she took really represents her spirit, and the journal from this trip shows a side of my Grandma that I never knew.

i count myself blessed to be able to say that I had my Grandma with me until the age of 38. Not many can say that. And, although I had thought many times that we would lose her someday, it still is very difficult. But, that said, I am happy to share a story of hers that she didn't share with many while she was here. . .