Till we meet at Jesus' feet

A few hours ago I got a call from my mother telling me that my grandma Church had passed away peacefully around noon today. While we knew it wasn't far away, such news is never easy to take. My co-workers sent me home after getting the call to make travel prepartions to attend the funeral in AZ on Saturday and I have since been reflecting on the life of Ida Smith Church who would have been 92 years old on May 9th. As a means of therapy for me, I thought I'd write down some of my thoughts and feelings and favorite memories of my grandma while still fresh in my mind.
I could write a book about how wonderful this woman was, but I'll share a few things that are special to me.

As a young child I was convinced that the candy "Jolly Ranchers" was in fact named after my grandma and grandpa Church. They were sweet, always jolly and were for a time, ranchers as well. Not only that, but all through my youth, grandma's purse and granpa's pockets always had Jolly Ranchers in them. No matter what the occasion or how many grandkids were around, grandma always managed to have enough Jolly Ranchers in her purse for everyone.

One of my grandma's true loves in life was music, and it wasn't hard to tell. It's a love that I like to think I inherited from her through my mother. She had a beautiful voice and could play the piano very well. She was even my piano teacher for a time early on in my development. What I remember most however were her skills on the organ. When she played the organ (which she loved to do) it was as second nature to her as using a fork and knife to me. She practically had the entire hymnal memorized and even in her later years when eye sight began to fail her, she could still play amazingly well because she knew it by feel. She could take requests and transpose into just about any key on the spot adding beautiful, sometimes elaborate introductions and filler notes. I used to love to hear her play, and it brought such a peace into her home.

I don't own many things of value, but I do have a number of prized possesions, one of which is my Quillow that grandma made for me. For those of you unfamiliar with the quillow, it's a quilt with a square pocket sewn on the bottom which enables the quilt to fold into a pillow. Grandma made these for all her grandkids back in the day, and while I have long since forgotten the correct method for folding the quillow into a pillow, I still treasure it and Layne can tell you that rarely an evening passes that I don't end up wrapped in it at some point. When I can't sleep, it is still the first thing I turn to. Grandma made my quillow one summer when they picked me up from girls camp and I got to stay with them in Snowflake for a week, just the 3 of us. Grandma took me to the fabric store and told me I could choose any fabric I wanted for my quillow. Being the silly 12 year old that I was, I selected a loud teal colored fabric covered with penguins on the beach playing sand volleyball and surfing. Grandma asked if I were sure thats what I wanted and when I said I was, she measured and bought the fabric and never criticized my choice or told me I'd regret it when I was older. Thats just the way she was. I helped and watched as she sewed my quillow that week and have loved "my penguins" ever since.

Grandma seemed to understand more keenly than anyone what it was like to be a child, which I suppose is only natural since she had 9 of them herself. My siblings and I had more than 1 birthday party at their pool when they lived in their condo by the temple. She never made us feel foolish for the games we'd play and would often join right in! She also understood how hungry kids get after several hours of intense "pretending" out in the yard and always seemed to have a snack of fruit, or her favorite Club crackers waiting for us when we came inside to rest our imaginations for a while.
Grandma was the model of a Latter Day Saint woman to me. In addition to being a wonderful mother and wife, she epitomized church service. She took me with her several times to visit people in need in her ward, always with food or some other offering. During a difficult time in my own family's life, it seemed not a week went by without grandma stopping by to help out (usually multiple times), ALWAYS bringing her famous stew, homemade bread and lemon cake. She and my grandpa served many years on a mission and in temples. She was a rock of faith, even after her mother accidentally backed over her 1 year old son with a car taking his life. I knew at a very young age that there was nothing she would not do for the church or the Lord.

Grandma started recycling long before cities handed out the blue cans. I'll bet some of her old butter tubs and cool whip containers are still in circulation!

Grandma gave all her grandkids a dollar for their birthdays. That doesn't sound too impressive, but with 50-something grandkids that is a feat! As sure as the sun rises I could count on getting a thoughtful handwritten card and my birthday dollar every year on or before my birthday. It always made it special.

Christmas just wasn't Christmas without grandma's famous (and sometimes very colorful) popcorn balls. I just realized that I've now used the word "famous" in conjunction with food multiple times, which should tell you something about her cooking. You've never had a popcorn ball until you've had one of hers. They were extremely messy and you could glue your teeth together if you bit down too hard, but they were delicious, and special for Christmas. I wonder how much time she spent making popcorn balls for everyone over the years.
Grandma was an amazing missionary. Throughout the later years, she spent a lot of time in various different assisted living facilities and hospitals, especially after grandpa's passing. It was never long after moving into a new place that she'd ask her kids and grandkids to come over for a big family home evening of music and sharing of talents and testimonies. She always managed to pack the rec room of every facility she ever stayed in with non-members she had invited to participate in an FHE. She taught me that it doesn't matter if you're in a wheel chair, have a broken hip, a head full of grey hair or are without a spouse, everyone can be a missionary no matter where they are.

A lot of grandma's legacy is made up of the things she didn't do as well as those she did:

Never an angry word
Never a complaint
Never a missed opportunity to serve
Never a visit without a hug and a kiss
Never a forgotten birthday
Never a lost temper
Never a dirty house
Never a turned down calling
Never a bad deed
Never a selfish desire
Never a lack of faith
Never a wasted moment
Never a wasted morcel of food
Never a day without prayer
Never an ounce of pride
Never a raised voice
Never a hurtful comment
Always love. Always.

I love you grandma!