What experience or moment in your life have you learned the most from? 
Submitted by AngieK. 

the last day and a half was spent in seattle attending my grandma amelia's rosary and funeral. so many thoughts went through my head i wish i had them all recorded so i could play them all back to myself and make some beautiful sense.

amelia was my dad's mom. a dear friend of amelia's said that my grandma never said a negative word about anyone and she asked us all, do you know anyone else you can say that about? and it's true. she was so positive, fun, adventurous and kind. kind beyond what you think is possible. patient and in the moment.

my dad's back causes him a lot of pain these days. coupling that with his grief he at times looked so overwhelmed and sad that i didn't know if he was going to fall over from the pain in his back or his heart. he beckoned for his five children to be near him. so we did. seeing my brother's cry, my dear cousins and second cousins weep. there were times when i'd look around and everyone's faces looked very old. their sadness and holding back tears aging their beautiful faces for the moment.

my aunt marianne, amelia's daughter, my dad's sister, she was amazing. i watched her body shake at times but she kept reaching out to comfort others, to squeeze tight. as she left the mausoleum marianne said, "goodbye mom" and "i'll see you later" as she waved to her large white coffin and went out the door.

my brother, todd and i watched as her coffin was set upon the risers that lift her up and up, about three men high to her resting place next to her husband, william mchatton. gone is the gentleness we witnessed at the rosary and at the church now it's time to put the box in to it's concrete hole. it's so strange but i've come this far and i'm going to keep my eyes on that white beautiful box until it's secured. the men push it in with force, i think it must be so heavy. next, they push in the square piece of concrete that needs to fit in so precisely that one of the man starts banging away. the quiet is gone and of course i'm crying and watching him pound and pound, unneeded concrete falls to the sacred floor. he finally gets it right and he proclaims "i did it!" and an "i'm sorry," the latter in our direction.

we walked outside to see a beautiful day full of fluffy clouds, sunshine, rolling green hills and a few dark gray clouds which burst at untimed intervals. i can relate to those clouds.

my brother, tony says throughout this experience, she's given us the blueprint on how to live. i know he's right. and he says the bar is set high.

on thursday night at the rosary i felt so sad and it was so difficult to see her wonderful pictures my cousin, amy had so lovingly spent time arranging. i didn't want to look at her photos or the open casket, i wanted so badly to see her and to touch her. how could we all be together like this? this day had come. like it will come for all of us. and i just wanted to hold on to the last time i saw her. how soft her cheeks had felt when i kissed her. how she told eliot how proud she was of him, and me and andy. and then as amelia's friend martina was going through the rosary i had another quick moment of clarity as i had about a week before. this time i felt grandma there. and she wasn't in that body, but instead she was with us, all around us, watching us, and a part of each of us. i knew at that moment i needed to keep coming back to this feeling to get through the grief and the unknown.

the heart wants what it wants and then there is death and oh how my heart wants to know what's next.

i don't feel like this post says enough or what i want to say exactly but i think i'll stop writing now. it's all so very big. our experiences, our lives, our love. our grandma always asked lots of questions and cared about what others had to say. may her life shine eternally in everyone who knew her and in the stories that will continue to be told.   

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