Last week ended up taking a very unexpected, bittersweet turn. I got a call from my mom on Monday night. My grandma Osmar had a stroke while walking on the beach that evening. She passed away on Tuesday morning.
I was back in Michigan by Tuesday evening, and by Thursday I was about ten hours north of Chicago in Michigan’s upper peninsula. It’s hard to express the range of emotions from the week—sadness and grief over losing my grandmother, relief and joy over being around so many loved ones and an uplifted spirit from reading the memoir that she had written about growing up poor during the Great Depression and then going on to raise eight children.
As sad and shocked as we all were, I think we all took comfort in the fact that she was on the beach of Lake Superior surrounded by such pure and peaceful beauty—a full circle back to her childhood on the great lake. As my uncle Ken said, “Sign me up for that exit.”
(She would always puts little smiles in the “O” when she gave us birthday or Christmas cards)
This next shot was completely unintentional—I was changing the settings on my camera, and I don’t think I even looked when I took it. But something about it strikes me. It’s such a candid and honest moment. My brother’s face really expresses the underlying feelings from the week.
The view from Mission Hill Cemetery. Again, the setting up there is just gorgeous. That’s Canada in the distance.
My cousin, Rose, and her beautiful new baby.
And, of course, I got to see my favorite little nephew, Henry (here he is playing with my cousin’s little girl, Addison). Baby with bear ears? Adorable.
Yes, we buried him up to his knees to see if he could stand. I think he decided he’d rather munch on rocks and dirt.
Henry and his gramps.
