Growing up us Mahan kids didn't all look as much alike as we do now. I've always been a bit of a black sheep, not in the fact that I have a darker complexion (although that is part of it) but in that I don't look like my parents. Sure, there's a facial expression or two, but really I get my face and my color from my Gram, Betty Irene Walton Mahan.
And she was a Betty. She had classic good looks that carried over into her age. No wonder my Gramps snatched her up when she was only 20. (Or was it 19? Either way, they were young.)
Gram was one of the most head over heels in love women you could ever meet, although she didn't show it with public displays of affection or grand gestures. She did live every day to take care of my Dad, my Uncle Mitch, and her husband, my Gramps.
In the summer of 2006, a few months after Gramps had passed away and my parents made the courageous decision to leave their home of 20+ years and move closer to their parents, I got to go for a drive alone with Gram after we had helped move my parents (and Kelli) into their new home. We chatted about lots of things, but the conversation turned quickly to relationships and finding the right person to spend eternity with. Gram's advice was to find someone who could make your knees go weak even after 50 years. She told me that with Gramps, sometimes when they were out and about he would catch her eye from across the room and wink at her. And my 67 year old Gram told me with her hand fluttering over her heart like a teenager that she would just turn a bit red and say, Oh, Dennis!
Gram had two of her sons, their spouses or loved ones, and all the Mahan grand kids to love and care for even without my Gramps, but we've all known that she would never be truly happy again until she was reunited with Gramps.
This past Saturday night, around 12:30 when he came to take her Home with him, she went. She had not only Gramps waiting for her, but two sons who didn't live past infancy, Kirk and Tracy, and her parents and grandparents and her older brother, Jim.
It's these thoughts that bring a little peace to my mind in otherwise emotional and tumultuous times. I was not expecting to have to say goodbye to her this early. I am glad she met Monroe but wish there had been more time. I'm struggling to express my grief.
I am grateful for my memories of my Gram, both in the seven years since we lost Gramps and the years before. She was an amazing cook, a trait I hope can be said of me by my child(ren) and future grandchildren. She was stubborn as all get out, and had opinions and advice for every situation but especially about love. She had great friends who have looked out for her and taken care of her in the day-to-day. She was dedicated to her job, and shared her great work ethic with her children, which has been passed down to us kids as well. Sometimes I could make her laugh. She found my ridiculous antics around my family funny, which I always loved. She could've been on the show Hoarders for the amount of change she kept. She and my Gramps must've never given exact change once in their lives. I'm pretty sure we rarely left their home as kids without a $10 roll of quarters each. Gram and Gramps are the ones who got us the organ that spawned us starting piano lessons, which is a love that has obviously carried over into adulthood.
I'm grateful for my Gram. I'm blessed to have had the opportunity and the time to get to know her as much as I did. Thanksgivings, Christmas', every graduation, every milestone in my life thus far she has been there for me and my family.
It's hard. It's hard for us left here to handle the loss. I'm thankful for faith, for the knowledge that there will be more time to spend together. We'll have eternity. I pray that is enough.
Betty Irene.
December 15, 1938-January 12, 2013