esther praetorius

Robert's grandmother died on Saturday. Robert flew out to Washington state on Tuesday, and he'll be back some time early Monday morning. The last week has been a flurry of preparation to go and activities once he got there. But the family (most of them, at least) is together. Apparently, there have been some extremely meaningful and helpful events, including a long reminiscence with the minister who knew her and performed her funeral service.

Robert's grandmother was 99 when she died. She lived her entire life in Washington, most of it in one small town. Her "people" were from North Dakota (I've seen pictures of them before they moved further west). I just can't imagine the hardships they faced first in North Dakota in the 1870s and then in Washington in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century.

As a young adult, Esther taught third grade; she has survived most of her students. At 22, she married and started to raise her family -- two children and two cousins. Her husband ran an apple orchard and she kept books. (In fact, the family corporation is finally being dismantled today.)

She was an avid gardener. Just before she moved into a "retirement home," she couldn't move too fast, so she would put on her rain coat and rain hat before setting up the sprinkler. A few years ago, Robert and I visited her home of some 70 years with her and she was so pleased to see that the gardens were being kept up by the new owners of the house.

She also walked every day until recently. Nearly ten years ago, the entire family went on a cruise together. In fact, we celebrated her 90th birthday on that cruise. One day, I was supposed to accompany her to an activity, so I started walking very slowly (I have a habit of walking too fast for many people). I looked up and suddenly realized that she had sped ahead, leaving me in her wake. I had to jog to catch up.

In recent years, her memory started to go. We spent a lovely visit with her a while back where she wasn't quite sure who we were, especially in the evenings, but was charming and delightful nonetheless. That was the occasion on which we went through albums of photographs, and I'm so grateful that we had that experience.

She somehow always remembered birthdays and Christmas and sent a check. Actually, she sent two checks because for some reason I didn't quite understand, she was afraid that Robert wouldn't share a check with me. So I always got my own check, sometimes in the same envelope in which Robert's check arrived. I always felt like her strong, independent female side was shining through. Though she was delighted when Robert and I got married, I think this was her little way of encouraging me to maintain some form of independence.

Although she never liked the retirement home much, she tolerated it and actually didn't want to move until this summer. She realized it was time, so she moved over the mountain to a very nice assisted living facility nearer to her daughter. She wandered at night, though, so she was moved to the alzheimer's unit to keep her safer. And then perhaps a week before she died, things took a bad turn.

She had mentioned to her family on several occasions that it would be ok if she didn't wake up one day, she was at peace. Her family took this to heart and did not take heroic measures, but let her go on her own schedule, in as much comfort as could be given.

She had a lot of visitors in her last days, and I hope she remembered enough to know that she was loved and adored.

I mentioned this story to someone recently, who said that people don't usually get to die of old age anymore, that Grandma Praetorius' ending was perhaps a blessing.

So here's to Grandma Praetorius who saw so much life and had a great deal of grace in death. Here's to the entire Praetorius family who respected her wishes and let her go in peace. She was a great lady, and she will be missed.