Pittsburgh was just voted America's #1 most livable city according to the Places Rated Almanac. While part of me suspects that a list of 50 cities is shuffled around each year to give each a chance at the top, part of me agrees that Pittsburgh earned its top billing. The city achieved #1 by scoring "mildly good" on a range of factors. In other words, Pittsburgh isn't stellar in any one category, but put together, you get a city that isn't too large, has decent cultural amenities, lovely parks, and is a pretty safe place to raise a family. Where did we score the lowest? Weather, of course. If I weighted factors according to my own value scale, we'd never score #1, because I'd rank blue skies way ahead of traffic, for instance. I'd be willing to put up with more gridlock in order to have a few more sunny days. Like more than 2 sunny days a month (we missed April's two days of sun, since we were in Seattle last weekend.)
My grandmother's memorial service was a perfect tribute to her beautiful life. Jacob read her eulogy, written by my aunt Ann. My cousin Susanna produced a slideshow of her life, that had all of us in tears when played against the backdrop of her favorite tunes, that my aunt Beth so beautifully played on piano. Beth's daughters, my cousins Lois and Lily, played the violin and piano. Andy screamed for "hot chocolate" just as my Dad began his words about Gram's life. I was so disappointed to have to flee to the nursery. Andy and his cousin Cordy duked it out over Legos, while I stood on top of a child-size table, straining to hear the speaker transmitting the rest of the service. I was able to hear, faintly, the memories of Gram's sisters, and grand-daughters. What was so apparent in everyone's remembrances, was how unconditionally loved each of us felt in Gram's presence, and how she had the gift of inspiring each of us to live more confident, more full and gracious lives.
She was an incredible role model. After the service, I felt so empty and sad as I said good bye to my parents and siblings. They had to leave early to catch their plane back to California. We had spent several wonderful days together, catching up and enjoying each others' presence. Andy and I would now be alone at the hotel, leaving the next morning for our flight. I decided to drive to my Aunt Ann's, where I knew we'd be welcomed, despite how tired she was after arranging the service and all the festivities of the weekend.
My cousin Peter took a special trip to the store to buy Andy some Macaroni and Cheese (which Andy promptly refused to eat.) After a whirlwind visit, in which Andy took each of my aunt's ceramic artifacts from a shelf and placed them where he thought they looked best (on the couch or table), I decided it was time for us to leave. What did my aunt do? Why, exactly what her mother, my grandmother, would have done. And exactly what my own mother does. Ann walked us to the car, kissed us goodbye, and stood watching and waving as we drove down the long driveway and out of her sight. We watched her grow smaller and smaller, and my eyes welled up in tears as I saw Ann continue to watch and wave, reminding us both of the special way Gram made us feel when we had to say goodbye. It was as if Gram would be waiting there for our return. It was never really good bye.
Before we left for Seattle, Mike's sister Michelle welcomed her first baby into the world. A sweet little girl, Rebecca. We had a chance to visit them on Tuesday. I would post a picture, but I know Michelle is uncomfortable with posting pictures online, so suffice it to say, she is very precious.
