What a difficult weekend: saying goodbye to my grandmother and remembering the anniversary of Jeff's home going 6 years ago Sunday (4/6/02).When Tomorrow Starts Without Me
When tomorrow starts without me
And I'm not there to see,
If the sun should rise and find your eyes
All filled with tears for me;
I wish so much you wouldn't cry
The way you did today,
While thinking of the many things,
We didn't get to say.
I know how much you love me,
As much as I love you,
And each time that you think of me,
I know you'll miss me too;
But when tomorrow starts without me,
Please try to understand,
That an angel came and called my name,
And took me by the hand,
And said my place was ready,
In heaven far above,
And that I'd have to leave behind
All those I dearly love.
But as I turned to walk away,
A tear fell from my eye
For all my life, I'd always thought,
I didn't want to die.
I had so much to live for,
so much left yet to do.
It seemed almost impossible,
that I was leaving you.
I thought of all the yesterdays,
The good ones and the bad,
I thought of all the love we shared,
And all the fun we had.
If I could relive yesterday,
Just even for a while,
I'd say good-bye and kiss you
And maybe see you smile.
But then I fully realized,
That this could never be,
For emptiness and memories,
Would take the place of me.
And when I thought of worldly things
I might miss come tomorrow,
I thought of you, and when I did,
My heart was filled with sorrow.
But when I walked through heaven's gates,
I felt so much at home.
When God looked down and smiled at me,
From His great golden throne,
He said, "This is eternity,
And all I've promised you."
Today your life on earth is past,
But here life starts anew.
I promise no tomorrow,
But today will always last,
And since each day's the same way
There's no longing for the past.
You have been so faithful,
So trusting and so true.
Though there were times
You did some things
You knew you shouldn't do.
But you have been forgiven
And now at last you're free.
So won't you come and take my hand
And share my life with me.
So when tomorrow starts without me,
Don't think we're far apart,
For every time you think of me,
I'm right here, in your heart.
Author Unknown
Edna B. Swingley, 88, of Arlington Heights, former longtime resident of Palatine. Beloved wife of 53 years of the late Charles E.; loving mother of David (Carolyn, nee Wilkin) and C. Stephen (Wendy, nee Willson) Swingley; dear grandmother of Chris (Andrea), Dan (Delphine), Todd (Jessica) Swingley, Jennifer (Todd) Nagel and Gretchen (Ryan) Corn; dear great-grandmother of nine. Memorial Service Saturday, April 5, 1 p.m., at the First United Methodist Church of Palatine, 123 N. Plum Grove Rd., Palatine. Interment private. Memorials appreciated for P.E.O. Foundation in care of Edna Swingley memorial fund, 3700 Grand Ave., Des Moines, IA 50312, www.peointernational.org. Arrangements by Ahlgrim Family Funeral Home, Palatine, 847-358-7411.
Meem memories:
It’s difficult to know how to summarize or share with you some of the reasons Meem was so special to me. As I’ve been reminiscing the last few days, two traits stand out to me: her creativity and her caring nature.
When we were at Meem’s, there was always something fun or interesting to do. We rarely were in front of the television (unless it was the Bozo show), but rather running up and down the little hill in the back yard (that to us seemed like a huge mountain), bouncing a ball back and forth together in the driveway, rolling/cutting/and decorating dozens of gingerbread cookies every Christmas, playing jacks or pick up stix on the large oval braided rug, eating home made pickles with dinner or walking down the road to the Westerberg’s farm to pet the llamas, watch the emu’s and feed the ducks.
Meem’s creativity showed in her gorgeous garden, where she skillfully cared for a variety of flowers. They were beautiful in her garden and then again beautiful as she arranged them for display in the house or dried them to create special keepsakes. For many years she cross stitched pieces for family and friends and would knit little caps for the newborns at the community hospital. She even taught me how to cross stitch small pieces and helped me with my first latch-hook rug! Her delicious home-made meals and deserts were made with effort and love. She told me on many occasions how much she enjoyed her home economics class in high school and how she admired her instructor. I remember one piece of funny baking advice she shared with me was that the best way to get all the batter off the mixer’s beaters was to use your fingers and lick it clean! Meem clearly enjoyed the creative aspects of being a mom and grandmother.
Another quality that stands out to me about Meem was her caring nature. She was involved in the community through volunteer work at the hospital, where she ran the “gift cart” for years. She also spent time working with the local PEO chapter, a philanthropic organization which focused on the advancement of women. I know Meem & Grandad had dear friendships that extended over decades. And as my grandmother, she attended numerous birthday parties, mailed me Hallmark cards (and often money) for every holiday, and listened to my stories and dreams.
We shared a few special seasons, one while I attended the local community college down the street from her. Twice a week, I’d join her for lunch between my classes. I learned a lot about my grandmother as a woman and individual. I also enjoyed running into her on campus occasionally where she would be going to her aquasize class.
Another unique season we shared was when I was first widowed. Meem was very supportive, loving and understanding. Although I had only been married a few short years before being widowed, and Meem had been married over 50 years before being widowed, it was comforting to talk to her about the pains of losing a spouse.
I know these last few years were hard for Meem as she lost the ability to do certain things she enjoyed or just basic daily tasks. I will miss her dearly, I was very blessed to have such a caring and creative woman as my friend and grandmother.
