An image from the past

This picture popped up on FB yesterday posted by Glen's cousin, Karrie. I always feel a bit off center when I see a picture from many years ago that I have never seen before. It seems as though my reality has shifted.

I knew it must be from about 1977 because the baby on Glen's father, Jordan's lap is my oldest son Eric. Glen's long hair would also date the photo even if Eric were not included. Glen's uncle John sits in front of Glen. John and Jordan married sisters. John and his wife Kathleen have lived in a home south of Kathleen's parents' home for years. Jordan and Elma built a house to the north of Elma's parents and planned to retire and live out their lives there. They did live out their lives but those lives ended much too soon. Both died in that planned retirement home, Elma from cancer before Jordan's retirement from TRW in southern California and Jordan not long after finally retiring and moving north to Utah.

Tomorrow would have been Jordan's 83rd birthday if he were still with us. He died shortly after his birthday in 1991. We would have loved to have had him with us for two more decades. This is what my daughter, Janae, wrote as a 4th grade student after his death.

"Grandpa's Funeral"

I stared down at him. My knot in my stomach grew tight every second. I looked at him. Why? Why does it have to be him?

"Stop that Janae," I told myself. I had a hundred questions in my mind waiting for an answer I'd never know. Why did he die? The knot in my stomach was so tight I thought it was going to break anytime.

"He is dead," I thought. I felt a wet tear fall down my cheek. I didn't bother to wipe it away.

He just went to sleep one night and never awoke. Never awoke to hear the sound of children sledding in the winter. Never will wake up.

I reached down, my hand trembling. I touched his icey cold finger. My hand flew back in a flash. His hand was not warm and comforting like when we went for walks. It felt like a cold drumstick on a turkey. His veins were blue, blue like an icey pond. My eyes were blurry, and I could hardly see. The knot in my stomach broke and now I had mad butterflies.

"He died of a broken heart," I thought, as some guesses flew through my mind. My grandmother had died a few years ago of cancer. I had a silly image of her dancing up there. I watched her for awhile in my mind and a smile came to me. I hadn't smiled since I found out my grandfather died. At least someone's happy I thought. A river of tears flowed down my face.

Happy birthday Jordan! I hope that you and Elma are enjoying a birthday celebration dance.