:: A Giveaway ::
Hey friends Ü
I just wanted to let everyone know that I am doing a giveaway.
Over on D's Things.
It's for a fabulouse neckalce.
You should go and check it out.
Ü
:: Grandma Boudreaux ::
My Grandma Boudreaux passed away on Jan. 30th of this year. I haven’t been able to find the words to write about her, until now.
Where do I even begin? She was my first best friend. She taught me to be my own person, and to never be ashamed of that. She taught me that making mistakes was OK, you just had to keep on keeping on. She was such an inspiration to me. Her never ending faith. Her ability to continually endure. Her amazing way of smiling and being happy through all the pain. Her never ceasing drive to give. I can’t even count all the little things that she used to gather and give to me every time I saw her. I always knew that I was going to come away from seeing her with something. Something that she has taken the time to think about, and consider that maybe I would need it or want it. Such selfless love. Always thinking of others.
When I first heard that she had passed from Des, I was numb. I sat in my office and pondered how I was supposed to grieve for her. I knew that I would cry, but I didn’t want to. She was out of pain, happy, and with her sweetheart and loved ones who have gone on before her. But the need to cry was still there, so I let it come. I cried most of the day. I would finally stop, and then another memory would come and I would start again. Talking to my dad that night, he put into words the meaning for my tears, the ones that I didn’t want to shed . He said, “ The tears aren’t for her. She is happy. The tears are for us.” He was perfectly right. The tears were for me. I miss her. I miss seeing her, talking to her, getting into mischief with her. I just miss her. I am grateful for the knowledge that I will get to see her again someday when the time is right. Now she gets to be with all the family she hasn’t seen in a long time and with all the family that is still yet to come here to us.
I have a vast amount of memories with Grandma. Christmases and Thanksgivings. Birthdays and summers. Baptisms, vacations and family get-to-gethers. Boudreaux Birthday Weeks, teaching me to drive in her large Lincoln Town Car, sneaking into her room late at night to watch old movies. Hanging out at her store, seeing her create. Her smell (white diamonds), her laugh, the way she put lipstick on. Her Birkenstocks, her love of ice cream, her steaks rare. The way she ate her cantaloupe with lime. The way she said “Dawnielle Kate” or when she called me Dawner. The pride in her eyes when she watched me play ball, and the love I felt every time that I saw her. She loved to tell us stories, mostly about her adventures while she was younger. But the story I remember her telling me most, was the one about her trip to New York with my aunt and postponing it, numerous times, so she could see me after I was born.
My memories of her will be something that I get to always hold and remember. Her love and advice and craziness, those are traits that I hope to possess and pass on to future generations. I hope that throughout my life I can live to be even half the woman that she was. I hope that I live my life to make her proud. I hope that in those quiet moments when I think of her and it makes me smile, I hope that she can see me and she knows that I love her. And if I know my Grandma, she is up there right now telling anyone and everyone that will listen all about her children and grandchildren and great grandchildren. What amazing people they are.
My words definitely don’t feel adequate to tell you about my Grandma. She was by far the most courageous and giving woman I have ever met. She left me a letter that she wrote back in 2001 when she was first diagnosed with cancer. She thought she only had months to live. She promised she would fight, but just in case, she wanted me to know all these things. I didn’t actually get the letter until Thanksgiving of 2009. She fought. She fought long and hard. She managed another 10 years. That letter, it is by far one of my most prized possessions. I miss her.
I made it to church today. I made it all the way through church today without crying… until the closing song in Relief Society. The last verse of “Come, come Ye Saints”.
And should we die before our journey’s through,
Happy day! All is well!
We then are free from toil and sorrow too,
With the just we shall dwell.
But if our lives are spared again
To see the Saints their rest obtain
O how we’ll make this chorus swell—
All is well, all is well!
I couldn’t even make it past the first line. There is not a more perfect way to sum up my grandmother.
In the very appropriate and fitting words of my little brother:
“ ‘Till we meet again Grandma B”
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