A few days passed before the reality of her passing on swept over me. The heartache finally settled in when I opened an email from my father and
read:
"Gwen Dalley Crandall passed away on May 13, 2013 at the Teton Valley Hospital."
The obituary was beautifully written and described her life in a way I think she would have liked. It covered all of her accomplishments, talents, and significant lifetime achievements. She was an artist, a musician, a wife, mother, grandmother, and great grandmother. She loved nature, and God, and had a flair for classy style and eclectic tastes.
As I read over these words, my thoughts and memories of my grandmother filled my mind. So many were close to her. So many have loved her and have had beautiful personal relationships with her. I am just one of many, but a desire grew inside of me to share how I saw my grandmother through my own eyes and relay how she has been an influence for my life. Several times I have sat down to paper or computer thinking to write out my thoughts and memories and send them off for others to read. Sadness, emotion, and confusion knotted up inside me every time I tried. How do I write about someone I love and fully express in words what she means to me? She was such an amazing person. The kind of person you rarely come across. There truly are no words to describe this beautiful woman. You would have to meet her to understand what I mean. And how I wish everyone could.
If I were to paint her portrait, she would be a bird, a songbird with bright red wings. She was always humming a tune wherever she went and scattered wildflowers all around her house for as long as I can remember. In my eyes, she always stood out brilliantly, just like a bird.
If I were to paint her portrait, she would be a bird, a songbird with bright red wings. She was always humming a tune wherever she went and scattered wildflowers all around her house for as long as I can remember. In my eyes, she always stood out brilliantly, just like a bird.
Lavender perfectly describes how she smelled. I remember seeing little bouquets of dried lavender around her home to freshen up the rooms. I was with her for a short visit last summer and one day I picked lavender for her. Before she had me bring out the vases, she sunk her face into the bundle and breathed in. Then throwing her head back, she sang, "I LOVE lavender!" Her earrings swung from side to side as her vibrato moved through her entire body. She was such an animated and enthusiastic woman. She would sing her words whenever she was happy or excited, just like the old musicals she introduced to me as a little girl.
The very first musical she ever had me watch was "Meet Me in St. Louis." I may have only been five or six years old. And in my young unknowing mind, I honestly thought Judy Garland was my grandmother. Her voice was so beautiful and sounded so much like my grandmother, she had to be the same person! Of course, I somehow figured out that my grandmother wasn't a movie star, but the thought still amuses me. To this day, thanks to my music loving grandmother, I would pick a musical over any other genre.
Often, after watching a musical in her home, the desire to dress up in an eccentric costume would overtake me. I wanted to be Ann Blyth in "Kismet", or Jane Powell in "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers." And of course, Judy Garland was always a favorite of mine and I would dress up as Dorothy or Esther. Trying to recreate Debra Kerr's voluminous gown in "The King and I" always presented to be a challenge for me, but grandmother would supply me with the scarves, sheets, and old lace curtains necessary to fulfill my little fashion fantasies. She was a supporter of the arts and creativity. In her her eyes, a woman needed pizzaz and gusto to be considered accomplished, otherwise, she was just plain old boring. And who would want to keep company with a boring woman?
Certainly, my grandmother was never boring. I always admired this about her. She kept her home life alive by setting her grand piano right in the middle of the living room. No one could escape the classical music or the occasional boogie woogie that would explode from the keys. She would keep her kitchen spicy and exciting by making up recipes on the fly and telling superstitious old tales to believing grandchildren. She was always creating. She would add her own personal touch to everything. Linens were lined with her crocheted lace, little murals were painted on to her bookshelves, and tabletops were decorated with the flowers she grew in her garden. Her home was made beautiful because she never stopped creating.
She had a favorite memory with me and I love that she told it every time I came to visit. We were visiting in the Teton Valley. I must have only been 5 years old. One day Grandma decided to take me out hunting for mushrooms to make a soup. I remember it was chilly, so she put her oversized trench coat around me. She loved seeing my little body engulfed by her coat digging around in the dirt in the woods for little wild mushrooms. She always told me I made up a word that I would use for mushrooms. I could never remember this word because it was a mix between mushrooms and Snuffleupagus (I was obviously in my Sesame Street Phase), but Grandma knew exactly how I pronounced it and laughed every time she repeated it to me. Still, I can't remember how I said it. I am sure she would love telling me right now what word I used. I can almost remember perfectly that day digging for mushrooms.
More than anything, I love my grandma's dedication to her faith and family. She was an active member in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and was married to my grandpa in the Idaho Falls Temple. They were married for over 58 years in this life. She lived her faith and shared her testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ with everyone around her. Her faith influenced my faith. Her dedication to marriage and family has certainly influenced mine. Everyone she loved, she loved with her whole heart. I always felt truly loved and wanted by my grandmother. And I hope she always felt how much I loved her.
I am going to Idaho in a few weeks to see my grandfather. Right now, it is hard for me to imagine that she won't be there when I arrive, but the beautiful thing about life is, it never ends. I know I will see my grandmother again in the next life and that brings me tremendous comfort. Jesus Christ made it possible for us to return to live with our families for eternity, and this truth has never been so real to me until now.
I may not see her again in this life, but I will carry on to be the kind of woman she saw in me. I will be a woman with pizzaz! I will continue to watch those musicals. I will paint, and plant, and fill my home with music. And above all, I will live the gospel and love my family. All in all, I hope to become the kind of amazing woman just like my grandmother.
(See the portraits of my grandparents from last summer.)
The very first musical she ever had me watch was "Meet Me in St. Louis." I may have only been five or six years old. And in my young unknowing mind, I honestly thought Judy Garland was my grandmother. Her voice was so beautiful and sounded so much like my grandmother, she had to be the same person! Of course, I somehow figured out that my grandmother wasn't a movie star, but the thought still amuses me. To this day, thanks to my music loving grandmother, I would pick a musical over any other genre.
Often, after watching a musical in her home, the desire to dress up in an eccentric costume would overtake me. I wanted to be Ann Blyth in "Kismet", or Jane Powell in "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers." And of course, Judy Garland was always a favorite of mine and I would dress up as Dorothy or Esther. Trying to recreate Debra Kerr's voluminous gown in "The King and I" always presented to be a challenge for me, but grandmother would supply me with the scarves, sheets, and old lace curtains necessary to fulfill my little fashion fantasies. She was a supporter of the arts and creativity. In her her eyes, a woman needed pizzaz and gusto to be considered accomplished, otherwise, she was just plain old boring. And who would want to keep company with a boring woman?
Certainly, my grandmother was never boring. I always admired this about her. She kept her home life alive by setting her grand piano right in the middle of the living room. No one could escape the classical music or the occasional boogie woogie that would explode from the keys. She would keep her kitchen spicy and exciting by making up recipes on the fly and telling superstitious old tales to believing grandchildren. She was always creating. She would add her own personal touch to everything. Linens were lined with her crocheted lace, little murals were painted on to her bookshelves, and tabletops were decorated with the flowers she grew in her garden. Her home was made beautiful because she never stopped creating.
She had a favorite memory with me and I love that she told it every time I came to visit. We were visiting in the Teton Valley. I must have only been 5 years old. One day Grandma decided to take me out hunting for mushrooms to make a soup. I remember it was chilly, so she put her oversized trench coat around me. She loved seeing my little body engulfed by her coat digging around in the dirt in the woods for little wild mushrooms. She always told me I made up a word that I would use for mushrooms. I could never remember this word because it was a mix between mushrooms and Snuffleupagus (I was obviously in my Sesame Street Phase), but Grandma knew exactly how I pronounced it and laughed every time she repeated it to me. Still, I can't remember how I said it. I am sure she would love telling me right now what word I used. I can almost remember perfectly that day digging for mushrooms.
More than anything, I love my grandma's dedication to her faith and family. She was an active member in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints and was married to my grandpa in the Idaho Falls Temple. They were married for over 58 years in this life. She lived her faith and shared her testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ with everyone around her. Her faith influenced my faith. Her dedication to marriage and family has certainly influenced mine. Everyone she loved, she loved with her whole heart. I always felt truly loved and wanted by my grandmother. And I hope she always felt how much I loved her.
I am going to Idaho in a few weeks to see my grandfather. Right now, it is hard for me to imagine that she won't be there when I arrive, but the beautiful thing about life is, it never ends. I know I will see my grandmother again in the next life and that brings me tremendous comfort. Jesus Christ made it possible for us to return to live with our families for eternity, and this truth has never been so real to me until now.
I may not see her again in this life, but I will carry on to be the kind of woman she saw in me. I will be a woman with pizzaz! I will continue to watch those musicals. I will paint, and plant, and fill my home with music. And above all, I will live the gospel and love my family. All in all, I hope to become the kind of amazing woman just like my grandmother.
(See the portraits of my grandparents from last summer.)
