The day began peaceful enough. A fan was blowing in our room, the only noise in an otherwise silent house. Eshetu came in at 6:27 to ask if he could play his handheld video game in the living room. The other 3 kids had to be woken up 20 minutes later.

But the day has gotten crazy from there. I noticed bat droppings on the picnic table, an indication that a bat has roosted in the patio umbrella. This has happened two other times, but this time there was a LOT of poop. So I had a feeling we were talking about more than one bat this time. I opened it up and there was suddenly 8-10 bats swarming around, feeling like I had disturbed their new home. I finally had to turn the hose on them to get them away. The umbrella is in the garage. I will have to put up a bat house in the near future. I like the bats. Just not in my umbrella a few feet from my back door.

But today is especially sad because my last living grandparent is alive no more. Ella Olson, my maternal grandmother died this morning at the age of 92. We knew it was coming. I thought I was ready. In fact, I was hoping she wouldn't die in the middle of our trip to Montana. But when it finally comes, it the grief you feel really surprises you. And it seems too soon. But at just the right time for her, she breathed her last. May God grant her eternal rest and peace.

It feels strange to have suddenly been promoted to the #2 generation on both sides of my family. It means the end of grandparents for me. It means my parents are on the clock, so to speak (though we know in our hearts that all of us are on the clock from the moment we're born). It means another reminder for my kids that no one lives forever -- as if they needed another reminder of that! Mostly, it means that I'm sad because my grandma isn't alive any more. No more lefse and meatballs at Christmas. No more peppermint in the candy dish. No more "I love you," from her lips. Some of those things were long gone many years ago, of course. But death makes it all so final.

The greatest thing my grandma gave me was her love -- and the way she was so proud of me. But as far as stuff goes, she gave me her mandolin in hopes that I would learn to play it. She bought it, probably from the Sears and Roebuck catalog! when she was 16 years old, 76 years ago. As I write, it sits about 10 feet away from me, if the corner of my office. I hope to play it at her funeral.

Rest in peace, Grandma. Enjoy your rest. Enjoy the presence of God. Give grandpa Gilbert a squeeze from me.

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