A New Beginning

My grandmother, Helen McClurg, passed away in April of 2007. She was a tiny woman who's strength far exceeded her stature. She could be both spunky or meek, gentle or feisty. Whatever was called for, that was Grandma. Always the picture of dignity and class.



There are definite things that will always remind me of Grandma. There was a drawer in her kitchen which was always stocked with cookies, and it was lovingly placed at a child's height so that we were able to see the entire glory of it's contents. Grasshopper cookies, Pecan Sandies and some kind of cookie that was covered in powdered sugar, which I don't remember the name of were the staple contents of that drawer. There were probably a lot of reasons that Grandma didn't bake homemade cookies. Perhaps she was too busy baking her pies, or perhaps she stocked the store bought kind because she didn't want to be caught without cookies anytime her grandchildren stopped by. More likely, she never had time for cookies because she and Grandpa were always on the road, traveling from Oregon to Jackson Hole to California to Arches and back again.

Grandma would often burst into a sprightly dance and sometimes sing as well. She would suddenly throw her arms above her head, lightly hop upon her toes, twirl in a circle, and then crumble into her delicate giggles, delighted, as we all were, at her own silliness. Grandma knew how to have fun. She even sometimes did things just because other people didn't believe she would.



Grandma knew the name of every plant and flower that ever grew on this earth. She and Grandpa where there when I hiked through Arches National Park as a young child and learned that I was "as natural a climber as a mountain goat". She was there with us to search for Christmas trees and to share our Thanksgiving turkey. She flattered me by asking my opinion on which shoes or jewelry went best with her outfit. She always sent birthday cards with sparkly glitter on them.



It was all of these memories that occupied my mind as I watched her laying in her bed at the rest home, preparing to return to her Heavenly Father. She had been in the home for years, and her suffering for so long seemed cruel at times. Why couldn't she just go home? Maybe she needed to endure. Maybe her grandchildren needed to learn about true Christlike love as we watched our grandfather care for her and dote on her for all that time.

On the April day when we all knew that her journey was about to conclude, I think that none of us were ready for her to go. We wanted her to be free from the confines of her mortal body, free from the suffering of age and the wear of life. And yet, it was hard. We loved her and would miss her, and we have.

On that day, my husband and children and I were able to arrive to be with her before most of the rest of the family. Grandpa was beside himself with the thought of being without his Sweetheart, but he showed only dignity and gratitude and love. He had planned to go before her, had never wanted to be where he was. He asked my good husband to give Grandma a priesthood blessing, which humbled Andrew. Grandpa McClurg is the only Grandfather that Andrew has ever known, and his adoration for that man is precious to me. Andrew complied with Grandpa's request, and as he and another man prepared to anoint sweet Grandma, a kind nurse took my 2 small boys out into the hallway and closed the door so that we could be free to focus on our loved one. Andrew began the blessing and told Grandma how blessed her posterity was for having had her in their lives. Told her that she was leaving a legacy to be proud of, that she was loved, and that she should feel confident that all would be well whenever she was ready to leave. As Andrew spoke these words of love and comfort, the nurse in the hallway began to lead my boys in a tender song that they were familiar with. She didn't know that we could hear them through the door, and with the voices of watchful angels, my boys sang:

I am a child of God, and He has sent me here,
Has given me and Earthly home, with parents kind and dear.
Lead me, Guide me, Walk beside me, help me find the way,
Teach me all that I must do to live with Him someday.

Tears flowed freely down my cheeks, and I was simply thankful to be there to feel how much love was in that room with the woman that I had loved and respected all my life.

Grandpa has been lonely since then. He has many visitors, but children and grandchildren are poor substitutes for a life companion. As my Grandma Kay once told me, "It's nice to be the most important person in someone's life."

My grandfather has found that companionship again with a woman he will be marrying in five weeks. Joyce. My 88 year old grandfather is getting married. I am still trying to wrap my mind around it, but once the idea settles in, it will be great! I would wish for nothing more than happiness for my grandfather, and because he's found it, I will rejoice with him on November 6th. I know he's struggling with feelings of betrayal and I'm sure that's a normal thing. I know that my grandmother loves him enough to want him to be happy, and would give her blessing if she could.

It will be a new chapter for Grandpa in a book that he probably thought had no more plot twists. As long as he gets a happy ending, that is all that matters.