Remembering Grama Brown

My grandma Lamona Brown died on Friday, January 7th, 2022. She was such a kind intelligent talented lady. One of my most frequent memories of her is of what she said every time I saw her. She would open her long arms wide and say "give me some loves!" in an invitation to hug. Even though I didn't get see or talk with her very often (about once or twice a year) in my adult life, I always felt her love. She was the epitome of patient enduring to the end and lived her last few years blind in a frail body, while her mind stayed sharp.

I had a very restless sleep on the night of Thursday January 6th, and sometime after six the next morning, I found myself awake and thinking about Grama. I suddenly felt the need to say a small prayer for her, so I did, praying that she would have peace and rest from her pains. (She had been declining for a few weeks and was on hospice.) When my Dad sent a message informing me of Grama's death, he mentioned roughly when she passed away. Grama died right around when I was thinking about her and praying for her! 

When I saw how close her death was to the time I woke up and prayed for her, I felt a flood of love and tenderness. The timing of these quiet events was too aligned to be a coincidence. It's like her spirit was riding the same wave as my prayer and she sent her love back along my "prayer conduit" to me on her way to heaven. I don't know what all of this means "officially," or how it fits together doctrinally, but I immediately saw this moment as my sweet Grama giving me one last "love" as she left her mortal life. All through this big event, the strongest feeling in my heart was that same steady, beautiful peace that came in the morning. 

The funeral was set for Monday, a scant three days after Grama's death, in South Jordan, Utah. All of my siblings and I managed to find last minute plane tickets so we could support my dad and pay our respects to our grandma. I booked my ticket on Friday night (the same day Grama died), flew out on Sunday afternoon, and got home so late Monday night, it was technically very early Tuesday morning. It was a huge exhausting whirlwind, but all completely worth it to be there. The viewing was tasteful, the funeral was poignant, and seeing various aunts, uncles, and cousins was happy. 

Listening to stories from Grama's life and seeing her legacy in the people sitting around me at her funeral was a beautiful tribute to a wonderful woman.

Out of all the pictures on display at the funeral, this honeymoon snapshot of my grandparents was my favorite. I don't know exactly how heaven works, but I like to think that they are young, whole, and happy together up there just like this.

Airport bathroom selfie: I packed light for this trip, all in a small crossbody bag, and it was immensely satisfying.

A few of my sibs went out to Kneaders for French toast before the funeral on Monday morning.

This sculpture was in the lobby of the funeral home, and it made me tear up when I walked in and saw it.

Lamona Brown's four children: Natalie, Wes, Stan, and Charley, looking at their mom in her coffin. This was such a special almost sacred moment that I felt bad for snagging a picture of it, but I'm so glad I did.

The immediate family who attended the funeral--in attendance were: all four of Grama's children plus their spouses, 11 of her 13 grandkids, and 6 of her 24 great grandchildren.

My second favorite picture was this darling Christmas card of my grandparents and their first baby, my Aunt Natalie.

Right after the funeral, we went to Grama's apartment at Legacy Assisted Living and decided who was taking what of her last few earthy possessions. It felt super strange to switch gears from remembering Grama with love to choosing what I wanted to take out of her home. After a little while in the apartment, I was able to view it as one more gift from Grama, and a way to remember her rather than an awkward division of goods. She wanted each of her children and grandchildren to have one of her framed needlepoint masterpieces, artistically hand stitched back before Grama's macular degeneration took hold. There were so many of them that everyone got more than one!

Braxton sitting in the hallway with a large tray of Grama's possessions. 

Something about attending my grama's funeral made me extra thankful for my mom. Even though I had just visited her house two weeks before at Christmas, it was still hard to part with her at the airport.

The Salt Lake City airport had an awesome long mural depicting the four season along the seven minute walk between terminals, and I thoroughly enjoyed admiring it as I strolled along.

The last time I saw Grama Brown in person was February 28, 2020, right after attending Jeff's Grandma Kay's funeral and right before the pandemic took hold.

When I leaned down to take a picture with Grama, my long hair fell over my shoulder onto her face, startling her blind eyes, haha. Jeff took this picture as I tossed my hair out of the way, and it makes me smile.