June 17th I received the phone call. Grandma had passed. I bowed my head, said a few prayers and then went to tell the kids. They knew she had been sick, we all knew she was 92 years old. But it was a sad evening for all of us. Then I told them stories. Stories about how she was playful, how she was fun, and reminded them that Grandpa and her were probably planning a party right now as we were talking.
These pictures are the few that I managed to take while I was in MO for the funeral. The cross was hand carved by one of the locals from the church and is my favorite one ever. The people are family that I don't see enough of. There were more there, but I didn't manage to get the pictures, and that I regret.
We all miss you Grandma.
