it's a beautiful day in heaven

Tonight, my Mama (my Dad's mom) went home to heaven.

Even in my sadness, I can't stop imagining her heavenly reception.

Reunited with her parents and siblings, grandparents, and other beloved friends and family that she missed on this earth for so many years.

My grandpa was among the many that greeted her at those pearly gates.

I can just hear them.

Grandpa: "Ruth! What are you doing here?!" (said jokingly, with a bright-eyed, open-mouth smile)

Mama: "Arne!  I thought I'd come say hi!" (spoken with such joy and peace)

Grandpa: "I hope you didn't have any traffic along the way!"  (said with a grin)

Mama: "[chuckle] Oh, Arne!"

The next few days will be full of tears and memories.

Memories of childhood, family gatherings, holidays, vacations spent together.

Beautiful, wonderful memories.

Tonight, Mama is with Jesus.

My heart and mind are overwhelmed.

My heart aches, but she is with Jesus.

And that brings me such great JOY.

Tears of loss and sadness meet tears of joy.

rainy days

Nearly all of my fondest rainy day memories are from under the towering pine trees of the Adirondack mountains and from the shores of Lake Pleasant.  

Rainy days remind me of splashing through puddles, running through the raindrops, and chasing bright orange salamanders at sleep away camp in upstate NY, spending rainy days in the tee-pee, bookstore, and gym at Camp-of-the-Woods, listening to the rain pound on the corrugated roof of the Smith house, and just hanging out together as a family in our rental house(s), nestled amongst the pines, in Speculator, playing games, reading, crafting, doing puzzles, and watching the rain.  

I cherish these memories.  I am so thankful to my parents and grandparents for helping to create such wonderful moments for me and my sister to look back on, and for being such a big part of them.

Lake Pleasant, from the shore of Camp-of-the-Woods (source)

We had a beautifully dreary day today - gray skies, off-and-on rain, puddles.  I found myself longing for the scent of damp earth and pine trees.  I opened the kitchen window, took a moment, and then inhaled as if the familiar smell would suddenly fill my nose and I would savor the fragrance, then, exhale with pure satisfaction.  

(source)

The smell of rain is all that hit me.  Don't get me wrong, the smell of rain, itself, is something wonderful, but paired with wet pine needles, it's something *amazing*.  And for me, it's linked to so many wonderful childhood memories, so that adds to it's enchantment.

(source)

My goal in life is to create amazing memories for Callan (and any future children) as my parents did, and continue to do, for me.  I want to run through the rain with him, build sandcastles by the lake, let him drive (on a lap) down a gravel driveway long before he has a driver's license, I want to hike and camp as a family, I want to laugh, dance, and embrace all that our adventures entail.  I want him to catch a whiff of something, 30 years down the road, and be momentarily taken back to a fond childhood memory, making his face and heart smile.

vintage cameras

Yesterday, my little vintage camera collection grew by two.  I received a care package from my parents, full of goodies.  These two beauties were rolled up, safely, inside.  

The Bosley was my grandfather's.  The Kodak was my great grandfather's.  I can only imagine the places these cameras have been and the pictures they have taken.  They captured moments in my family's history, they celebrated birthdays and holidays in the hands of two great men, they recorded vacations and good times, they provided us with images to look back on with love and with great pride.  They help us to remember times passed. 

It has been almost a year since my grandpa entered heavens' pearly white gates, was reunited with loved ones (many of whom I only know through photos that these cameras have taken), and met our Savior, face to face.

  

This Christmas, we will rejoice in the fact that my grandpa is celebrating his first Christmas in the presence of our Savior - the very reason we celebrate this holiday season.  He will be singing "Joy to the World" with the herald angels!  He will be rejoicing with the heavenly host; the same heavenly host that appeared to the shepherds living out in the fields, keeping watch over their flock by night, praising God and announcing the birth of Jesus Christ!

What a celebration Christmas, in heaven, must be!

As much as my grandpa loved and cherished his family, and we him, I'm pretty sure he's having the best Christmas ever.

Despite missing him dearly, his heavenly presence overwhelms my heart with joy.

"And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying:

'Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men!"  Luke 2:13-14

I'm honored to have these bits of family history in my home, displayed proudly on a shelf.  They belonged to two very special men - one that I can't wait to meet, and one that I can't wait to see again.  The pictures that these cameras took, introduce me to family life before I was born.  I never got to meet my great grandpa, but because of photographs taken with his Kodak, I can say I know what he looks like.  And I think that's pretty special.

Because of pictures, I'll never forget how rare it was to get a photo of my grandpa with his mouth closed, I'll never forget his bright, blue eyes...these pictures cue the sound of his laughter, his smell, his fierce, love-filled hugs, the sound of candy being stirred in the crystal candy dish by his strong hand grabbing a fistful of m&m's...

I'm so thankful for the memories that pictures evoke.

These cameras are something special.

sweet memories

My grandpa is being buried today.  His death hasn't felt really real until today.  My heart is so sad, yet I rejoice.  I rejoice because my grandpa is with Jesus.  How sweet it must be.  I will see my grandpa again, one day.    

As my family celebrates the life of my grandfather, I can't help but think of the times my sister and I spent at my grandparents house growing up.  We have such good memories with my grandma and grandpa.  Every time I walk into my grandparent's house as an adult, I recall all the fun times I had there as a child. 

Building forts out of the sofa cushions, running circles through the living room and tv room, the bag full of Hello Kitty goodies my grandma used to keep in the closet at the end of the hallway, hiding in the coat closet (I can even remember the smell), sitting on the "step" under the bar in the kitchen and thinking that was the neatest place to hang out, all of grandma's plants, eating ice cream out of grandma's fancy, colorful bowls, cookies - always, playing with the tupperware in the kitchen - cutting cheese into shapes with the little red shape cutter, eating out on the deck, sleeping over in the living room, my grandma's many sewing projects, my grandpa's bowl of candy - always within reach...I could go on...

When we were at my grandma's house last week, all of these fond memories came flooding back.  It's so strange to think that the next time we go to my grandma's house, my grandpa won't be there.  He won't be sitting in his chair watching and listening, and occasionally piping in.  I'm so thankful for the memories.  But for the moment, it's hard to see through the tears.