Grandma

My grandmother, Leona Jondahl, died a couple weeks ago. I considered leaving it out of my blog, but decided to write about her as a tribute. I wrote a letter that my older sister Michelle read at the service:

Dear Leona, Lee, Grannyma, Mrs. Donald E. Jondahl, Onie, Mrs. J, Mom,

Your multitude of names can only hint at the amount of people - and groups of people - with whom you intertwined your life, your efforts, your talents, and your love. But I can only speak for one, so let me begin again.

Dear Grandma,

I want to thank you.

I want to thank you for daring to be an old-fashioned Grandma in the face of the 21st century. For giving me the opportunity to escape to a countryside oasis when the suburban desert just got too hot, and for fighting to your last breath to keep that Big Red Barn as a fixture in the Metro landscape. I know you would never allow me to thank you without giving credit to your partner in farm, so Grandpa, if you're listening, props. Your farm has always been a point of pride and source of bragging rights for me: "Hey. You know that farm by the Carlson Towers and Park Nicollet with the Big Red Barn and all those sheep. Yeah, that's my Grandma's farm."

I want to thank you for making Christmas cookies just the way I like them. Gingerbread cookies with the secret ingredient - duck fat - that makes them sound so gross but taste so good. The spritzers that I could feast on for days without pause or hesitation, or concern for the abdominal consequences.

I want to thank you for fruit jerkey. I am one of few lucky children in the world who has had the dream-fulfilling experience of licking clean a bowl twice his size.

Mostly I want to thank you for your independence, your fearlessness, and your downright stubborness. Although we've found it frustrating at times that things had to be done 'Grandma's Way,' it's that very insistence that nobody else can tell you what's best for your life that I have come to admire in you. As I reflect on our relationship, I see that there might be a little more 'Grandma' in me than I had thought. It's the Grandma in me that led me to a college 1400 miles away, even though Grandma probably wanted me to stay close to home. It's the Grandma in me that led me to transfer 3000 miles to another school, even though everyone told me I was crazy, and then transfer back even though everyone told me I was getting "a little ridiculous."

And it's the Grandma in me that ultimately gave me the courage to depart for another continent, no matter how much I would miss home and home would miss me.

I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you in your final moments. Family has always been your top priority so it breaks my heart that I couldn't be by your side. But I will forever cherish our final phone conversation, and remember how lucky I am that I got to tell you one last time that I love you, and to hear you say it back.

I love you, Grandma.