Grandma Elder

November 2006

I walked through the Family History computer lab in the library, looking for the familiar sight of my grandparents. They often sit close to each other looking at the same computer, learning how to use the new genealogy software. Not spotting them like usual on Thursday mornings, I started walking toward the door, slightly disappointed. With one look back as I opened the door to go, I glimpsed my Grandmother’s short gray hair and blue-gray sweater. Turning around and letting the door close behind me, I walked over to my Grandmother and reached down to hug her, interrupting her conversation with a man helping her with the computer. She introduced me to Brother Wallace and said how good it was to see me. We hugged again and I knelt down next to her. Brother Wallace fiddled on the computer as we talked, and we figured out plans for going home on Trevor’s birthday.

I could see my sweet, generous grandma’s eyes twinkling as we spoke, laughing and smiling the whole time. I felt instinctively that she loved me and had great confidence in my ability to succeed in life. She expressed surprise that midterms had come so soon. She and I have always understood each other well – we laughed together over the transience of college relationships, and inquired about other family members. She asked how my Dad was doing, I asked about Sam’s family. Our conversation, as it often did, turned from family to our mutual love for family history: I told of my learning about the Great Depression and her father, Earl Hollingsworth’s, diligence in seeking work at the time. She told me of her plans to make Christmas gifts of the slides of Grandpa as a missionary in Uruguay for everyone in our family. I told her of my recent thoughts about serving a mission. She smiled and told me of a beloved sister missionary she and Grandpa met while in Ecuador on their temple mission – the Sister was impressed that their apartment inside the temple grounds had warm water and a shower! Grandma’s smile never stopped, but the wrinkles around her eyes sparkled with tears. Startled that she was crying, I felt that she was happy to hear of my desire to serve the Lord.

We said our goodbyes for the day and hugged again. Touched at her gentle and sensitive reaction to these memories and thoughts, I realized that her love for this Ecuadorian Sister was equaled in her love for me, both of which were manifest in her tears. As I walked away, I was moved deeply by the exquisite experience of talking with my grandmother, feeling her joy in seeing me and her confidence in me. As we had talked, a fleeting memory of our friendship before this life crossed my mind, and I realized that the grave would not mark its end. Grandma is a spirit after my own heart. I know that as we laugh together now, we laughed together before this life, and will laugh together after this life – walking arm in arm, tied by bonds of family, faith and friendship.

I found this journal entry from November 2006. My Grandparents were serving a Family History mission at BYU at the time. Happy early Mother's Day Grandma, I love you.