Thoughts on my Grandmother's passing

On July 3, 2011, I heard the shocking news that my Grandma Pratt had passed away in her sleep. She was my last living blood grandparent...and I truly thought she'd be around for much longer. She was only 37 years when I was born. She was a young Grandma. She was the grandparent I was the closest to. Being her first grandchild, I liked to think that I had a special place in her heart.... and I did. It was no secret that Grandma had favorites. She shouldn't have, but she did.

Grandma is an example to me of someone with weaknesses and challenges, full of humanness. God gives us weaknesses so they can be made strengths. I think to the best of her ability, she became as strong as she could. In the end, despite a life full of pain, insecurities and frailties, I know the Savior greeted her and wrapped her in His loving arms. At last she knows how much she is loved. His atonement made up for mistakes, the areas she struggled so long with in her life. He made up the difference.

I inherited a few things from my Grandmother. I have her eyes, her hands and legs, her migraines, her persistence, her strength, her stubbornness and her obsession for family history. She was the oldest in her family, my mother was the oldest in her's, and I am the oldest in mine. I feel deeply connected to her and I mourn her passing. I can't believe she's gone.

She married my step-grandfather when I was about 7 years old. They moved to Utah when I was 8. I waited 4 months after my birthday to be baptized because I wanted her to be there. My Grandpa Pratt was everything a grandfather should be. He often told us that even though we weren't related to him by blood, we were his. He was the grandpa who would come to birthday parties, graduations, church talks, and concerts. It was harder to get Grandma out of the house, but Grandpa was always there. He gave me my patriarchal blessing when I was 12 years old. He counseled with me and gave me advice many times during my teenage years.

This last week when family gathered to say goodbye to Grandma, it was doubly painful because in reality, we were saying goodbye to Grandpa too. Grandpa is 91 years old. He was 20 years older than my grandma. We expected him to leave long before her. He is as shocked as everyone that he is still here and she is gone.

After the funeral, we packed up their home and said goodbye to Grandpa, who moved to North Carolina to live with his daughter. We knew it was the last time we would ever see him again. And he knew it too. He gave us all a father's blessing, calling us his "dear little daughters." I couldn't help thinking of Father Lehi from the Book of Mormon, blessing his children before his passing.

Grandpa Pratt has always spoken with power and authority. He served for many years as a patriarch for the church. Yet it was so difficult to listen to his blessing as he switched between a husband grieving deeply for his sweetheart, to a father endowed with the priesthood and speaking on behalf of the Most High God. It was such an astonishing example of our human frailties and how they can be overcome by the power of God.

Watching Grandpa be driven away as we watched outside his empty home, was utterly heartbreaking. He sobbed openly in the front seat, and each of us, his children and grandchildren, wept as well. As he said in our blessing, “You will never see me again in this life.” And that is true. But I know without a doubt we will see him again in the next life. There he will be clothed in glory with his wife, my Grandma. Their bodies will be made perfect, the stain of old age gone.

My Grandma and Grandpa Pratt bore testimony often, of their deep and abiding faith and belief in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I have come to have my own testimony, and I know that the things they taught me are true.

I love my Grandma Pratt with all my heart. Despite her many weaknesses, she is a powerful example to me of what a woman can be, and what wells of strength we have buried deep inside of each of us.

This is the life photo montage I made for my Grandma’s funeral.