My grandma was an entertainer, a poet, a writer and a cook. And so, so much more. She passed away when I was only 14. I think of her often, especially when I think about knowing her in my adult years. How fun it might have been to know her on a higher level, to learn from her and be around her.
A few years ago my Aunt Jan compiled a book of my grandma’s love poems to my grandpa. I was excited to receive and it and was grateful for it. But sadly, it sat in my bedside basket for a few months. I decided to pull it out one morning when I had a toddler and baby crawling around me and a baby in my arms. I read the first poem, the second, and quickly dived into another world as I clung to every word with tears streaming down my face.
She lived, she loved, she mothered, she worried and she yearned to sleep on her tummy while pregnant. And she was funny and witty. It was as if I was there with her. And I felt a part of me come alive that I knew I needed to feel!
Russell M. Nelson said,
“When our hearts turn to our ancestors, something changes inside us. We feel part of something greater than ourselves. Our inborn yearnings for family connections are fulfilled when we are linked to our ancestors.”
Since reading those poems for the first time, I think of her when my husband kisses me in the kitchen or when he snores (because she talked of these things in her poems! How fun is that?!).
I am reminded of her desire to create and put things down on paper when I look at her books or her poetry. I have felt her in my trials and know she is an angel round about me that bears me up (D+C 84:88) and I look forward to seeing her again—to laugh and cry about the times she helped me from the other side. I treasure the connections that have kept us together and made her feel a part of my life. All because she wrote something down.