A Rememberence

I had originally planned a post about a few great days I spent in the Yakima River Canyon a few weeks back.  Fall was blessing the east slope with crisp nights and sunny clear days as I fished the river, having good success picking up wild rainbows on nymphs and then dries as the afternoon wore on.  But, on a flight back from upstate New York this last weekend I decided I had other thoughts I wanted to put down on "paper." 

I had gone to NY because my grandmother had died on Sept 18th at the age of 99 years and my family was taking her ashes to Dunnville Ontario in Canada to intern them.  She was born in that small farming community of April 13, 1914 where the land is flat and the wind has nothing to hold it back but the soil rich and good for farming.  She met and married my grandfather, had three children and then they decided to come to the states to pursue a brighter future despite the reality of leaving their family and friends.  Her death had been come relatively quickly and without much suffering, in the way we all hope it comes for us.  She had all her mental faculties about her and had even gone to breakfast that morning in the nursing home dining room.  Taking her ashes and placing them in the ground next to my grandfather was the completion of her unique circle of life and fulfillment of her final wishes.   

My grandmother in the center and flanked by her sisters Marion and Hazel

I have many memories of my grandmother and will always remember her as a person with a strong moral compass, a great work ethic, a curiosity of the natural world and a knack for making friends wherever she went.  She could rattle off dates, peoples names and places she had been all the way back to her childhood.  You never got the response, "I'm too old to remember back then."  Instead you always got the full dissertation of the events and the character profiles of the individuals involved.  It was only as I grew older did I begin to appreciate what this did for her in terms of not only keeping her memory sharp but I think it helped her to cope with the loss of so many people through her long life as she outlived so many family members and peers.

When I was a kid she would rattle us from a car induced nap to point out some flower or plant along the road.  It was generally already a half-mile behind us before my brother or I had any idea what was going on.  However, her appreciation for the natural world really rubbed off on me along with with her love of travel.  She and my grandfather never had much money but they found ways to stretch their dollars by camping, which allowed them to drive out west when my mom was young.  They also spent their Canadian equivalent of social security money visiting places in the great white north, including a trip across the country on the train.   

As I looked out the tiny window of the plane I thought about how this person who was no longer with us shaped my life in ways that I am only now beginning to recognize.  My explorer persona and desire to go west in a car laden with camping gear and fly rods.  The joy I get from lacing up some boots and heading up a dusty trail into the mountains.  Appreciation of an early sunrise across a sage brush landscape or a sunset on Puget Sound.  

She never was one to call attention to herself.  She taught through her actions, how she lived her everyday life and what she didn't say with words.  She is missed, but I don't mourn for her, but instead for what my family has lost.  We had a great afternoon of telling stories and celebrating her life when her memorial service was held in Dunville Ontario.  Yes there were some tears but there were also lots of smiles. 

With three of her great-grandchildren