My grandma's funeral

I loved that by the guest book at my grandma's funeral, there was a picture of her--complete with her kind and beautiful smile--and her scriptures.

Inside the front cover, were verses written her in familiar handwriting, verses she wanted to remember.  Tucked inside were various pieces of paper and an envelope addressed to "Aunt Margaret" from some apparent niece that I don't know.

My grandma's scriptures mattered to her.  And that matters to me.

Her funeral was wonderful.  Can a funeral be wonderful?  It was.  I loved seeing all my aunts and uncles and so many of my cousins.  I loved hearing her eulogy (and wondering if I could ever be as good as Grandma Dahl).  I loved the talks given by my dad and my uncle Demar.  I loved the piano solo.  I loved being surrounded by sniffling cousins that perhaps all inherited that same crying gene.  Leslie told me that one cousin--I can't remember which-- said, "It must be hot in here because my eyes are sweating."

Yes, that was what it was.

Cedric and Tavan.  I hadn't seen Tavan for years (and years) and he's always been one of my favorite cousins.  We used to catch crawdads together in Boulder Creek.  He made me laugh then.  He makes me laugh now.  I told him that if his band comes to Seattle, I will be very brave and go to another rock concert.  Although it may kill me.  Seriously.  I am too old for that kind of thing.

Gorgeous cousins (and sister).  Susan, Molly, Hannah, Micah and Olivia.  (And some of their children.)

There are 38 of us cousins, 37 living.  All but three of them were there.  I think I hugged nearly all of them.

The funeral was in Wells and we drove to Starr Valley for the burial.  As my dad said, it was the most beautiful day in the history of the world.

I have always loved the Starr Valley cemetery.  It is a serene spot in the sagebrush and near some hay fields.  My grandpa is buried there too.

Every grandson was a pallbearer--they drew names to see who would actually carry the casket.  That's my handsome baby brother Ammon in the front.

My cousin Jessica played the bagpipes in honor of my grandma's Scottish heritage.  It was fabulous.

That's pretty Hannah with one of her pretty baby girls in the foreground.

And then some more cousin pictures:

My brother Tabor and cousin Ira.  I'm guessing they were talking about something cowboy related.

Here's Lincoln, Tavan and my brother Enoch.  Lincoln is about 5 years older than me.  He told his kids about how I used to stutter and say, "Le-le-le-le-let's play house?" when I was a little girl.  I forgave him because he handed me Kleenex on Sunday when I was crying in church.  What? My eyes were sweating, OK?

Here are my dear parents talking to my dear aunt Nancy.  I hadn't seen her for years (and years).  She is Leslie's mother and if you knew Leslie, you'd know how great her mother must be.

Unless my grandma was too busy in heaven reuniting with all her loved ones there, I think she had to have been smiling down on us.  I think she must have been happy that we were happy together, that we were united in a sniffling, tear-wiping mess, loving her and each other.  I hope she knows how grateful we all are for her goodness and love and example.  

I'm sure she was glad that it was the most beautiful day in the history of all the world.