We drove to Utah on Sunday after church so that we could be there for my Grandma's funeral. We wanted to stay for church in Idaho because Joanne was being set apart as the new Young Women's President in our ward. When church was through, we headed south as quickly as we could. We spent Sunday evening with Joanne's family.
The next morning we went to Midway for the funeral. In the town park, they've built a pretty awesome ice castle. We didn't get to go in it, but it was cool so we took pictures.
At the funeral, I asked Madeline to take a picture of me in my skinny tie. There is a special story behind this tie.
When I was 11 my Grandpa North died. He was the first person I was really close to who passed away, and being young and inexperienced with such things, I was not coping well with it emotionally. We went to Midway for his funeral, and as we were at my grandparents' house getting dressed, I realized I had forgotten my tie. I burst into tears, and was nearly inconsolable. My Grandma North took my hand and took me into the bedroom where my Grandpa's church clothes were. She helped me understand that Grandpa was in a better place now, and that he wouldn't need his ties anymore. She told me to pick one out that I liked. I could wear it to the funeral, and then keep it to always remember my grandpa. The tie in this photo is that tie. I wore the tie on special occasions as a teenager, and then took it with me on my mission to Brazil. Over the years, the tie kind of fell out of fashion (it was skinny and kind of snake-skinned in texture). It got stained, ripped, and worn around the edges. Joanne occasionally nudged me to let the tie go. For years I've resisted. I haven't worn it for a while, but when Grandma passed away, I decided I should get it back out. Over the years, my understanding of the gospel and the Plan of Salvation has improved, and while the symbol of the tie is nice for nostalgic reasons, I felt like the tie had served its purpose. I am no longer the emotionally fragile 11-year-old for whom the tie was a source of comfort and reassurance. Before I offered the family prayer at the funeral, I told the story of the skinny tie, then took it off and placed it in the casket with my Grandma, a fitting retirement for a simple symbol that meant so much. (Many thanks to my cousin Mark who provided a replacement tie on short notice.)
I was honored to serve as one of the pall bearers, laying my Grandma to rest amid the mountain peaks she called home for 96 years; next to her eternal companion, and her son Marvin, who died when he was just 16. We take comfort in knowing they are together again, and that we will someday too be reunited with them as well.
This picture turned out blurry, but I didn't have the heart to leave it out. These are my grandma's kids and their spouses: My dad and mom, Maurine and Rex, and Sue and Randy.
On the drive home to Idaho after the funeral, we caught a little glimpse of heaven.
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