My Grandpa's second wife, he married Zelda shortly after the death of my Grandma several years prior. Zelda was a strong, vivacious, woman who grew up on a farm, enjoyed hiking and playing acoustic guitar with her brothers, drove an SUV, took her vitamins and always ate her vegetables. That morning as they prepared to make the drive across the Salt Lake Valley to my Aunt Patty's house in Draper she complained of having a incredibly bad headache and feeling cold. Grandpa suggested they lie down for a bit before they had to leave. He tucked her under the blanket, and that was it, a while later she was gone. An anyeurism. Graciously quick but painfully unexpected.
At home we went into planning mode. When was the funeral scheduled for? How were we going to get there? Would Dad be able to get off work to go? At the same time my heart broke for Grandpa who yet again faced the challenge of burying a beloved companion and was alone once more. Knowing how difficult the solitude was for him before he remarried, we pondered how he was going to deal with this pain. Here's where the true spirit of Christmas comes in. Grandpa was enveloped and uplifted by the arms of a multitued of friends, family, and a Savior who all love him deeply. As for Zelda, well, I think she and my Grandma are good friends on the other side comparing notes on what it was like married to Earl, and who knows maybe, just maybe, they got right to work for six months later Grandpa married Ellen. What can I say, Grandpa's an adorable, loveable, ladies man.
