Tribute to Grandparents

The other half of the equation on Memorial Day is the memory of our loved ones and ancestors who have passed away and have left so much heritage for us. Brent and I made our way up to the Salt Lake Cemetery again this year to take care of Grandma and Grandpa Heaps' headstones. One end is a little sunken and the grass likes to grow over it, so every year we tote a shovel and Brent digs away the grass. We tote water and rinse everything off, and then we place flowers in the little cups. Nothing elegant, nothing terribly showy, just a little remembrance of two people who made a difference in my life.

I love Grandma for her courage to embrace a religion she felt was true, and then give up so much to keep it a part of her life. I'll never forget her sweet German/Swiss accent, her gentle manner, and her love.

I love Grandpa for his tenacity in the face of so many challenges. I can't imagine his sorrow in losing his sweetheart so early in their life together, leaving him with a small son to raise. And then in his later years to take on the challenge of marrying Grandma and raising an entire family of little girls ... well, I think he was awesome. I like to think my love of art and music was a gift down through the genes, in part, from him. (As well as from my Mom and my Dad.)

Here's a picture of each of them with all the children, and one from the cemetery - for you Mom, since I knew you couldn't come to Salt Lake City in person.

clockwise: Marie Heaps, Albert Heaps, Rulon, Colleen, Lois, and Norma (my Mom)