Missing

Every year, Andrew and his extended family get together to visit the Wasatch Lawn cemetery, which is now just minutes from our new home, on Memorial Day and pay tribute to their loved ones. He snapped this photo of 97-year-old Grandpa Wertz (soon to be 98!) in front of his beloved Jean's grave, and I decided to polish up my rusty Photoshop skills and apply a Gaussian blur for a cool effect.

It's not perfect (I haven't really used Photoshop effects since an ill-fated graphic design class in college with a really mean teacher), but I like the expression Andrew captured on his face. Grandpa misses his wife so much. It was pretty heartbreaking to watch him there, especially since the roses he'd brought her on Mother's Day were still next to the grave, dry and wilted now.

Being there reminded me of my own grandpa, who's been gone three years now. At times, I think about him and want to cry as I realize that he'll never be around to hold my babies, teach them about branding calves and inadvertently show my little boys (and girls) how to cuss (my grandpa had quite a farmer's mouth -- and I loved him for it). But at the same time, I know he'll be there when they leave heaven, and he'll be here in spirit when Andrew blesses them and when we tell them about the great grandpa they missed out on.

I hope you had a wonderful Memorial Day and that the memories of your family members are close to you like mine are tonight. I sure love you, Grandpa, and I miss you.

Memories light the corner of my mind

I had a great Memorial Day weekend with Andrew and his family, and it stirred up a lot of old memories I have with my family.

We went to his brother's house and watched The Princess Bride, and I was reminded of all the times my sister and brothers and I watched that movie -- and quoted the entire rhyming scene all the time (much to the chagrin of my mother).

Andrew and I met his friends at a Bees game, and I was reminded of the time I watched my first (and only) Yankees game with my brother and was horrified as the Yankees and Red Sox got in a huge fight when they knocked their elderly manager to the ground.

Andrew and I listened to a double quartet sing "Bring Him Home" in sacrament meeting on Sunday, and I was reminded of the many times I had listened to my father and then my brother sing that song at our home and at church.

And finally, we went to a cemetery on Monday morning and placed flowers on the graves of Andrew's grandparents, and I was reminded of my own grandfather, who has been gone for a year now.

I think memories are some of the most important things we possess. Photographs fade, flowers wilt, buildings crumble, but the memories we have of the people we love and the places we have always enjoyed will be with us forever.

I hope your own Memorial Day weekend was filled with beautiful memories like mine was -- and I hope, like me, you're looking forward to creating more of your own memories. I can hardly wait to make my own with Andrew, soon to be mine for eternity.