Ruth Bell Ivie Spencer

A little over a year ago I wrote about how difficult it was to say good-bye to people. One person in particular was my grandma Spencer. That time finally came on Thursday, May 1, 2008. Grams had just celebrated her 83rd birthday on Monday.

On Saturday she suffered a series of mini-strokes and Sunday afternoon she fell into a coma. I spent Sunday evening in her home holding her hand, talking to her. Singing songs, reliving memories and thinking.

My dad said that it is to her that I owe all of my creativity (although Todd, my mom and my dad are all a GINORMOUS part of it too). He's right, she played a major role in my choice of career...not just the dream of some day being an Interior Designer, but by being a young mother of three children under the age of three (she mothered 4 young boys and 1 princess...the three oldest boys are all under one year from each other). When I would visit her, I would ask for her advice. Sometimes I didn't like it (mostly because I was feeling way too defensive and instead of taking it as constructive criticism and using it to improve myself, I felt it was an attack and it confirmed what a horrible mother I was). Some of my favorite advice was:

"Learn how to cook with a child on your hip and one between your legs" Every time I am at the stove with a baby on my hip I think of her.

"You can have nice things in your home while still having babies, you just have to teach them how to treat them."

"Enjoy them, because they grow up so fast." Everyone says this....and they are right. I sure do find myself just cuddling Abi more often and staring at Carly when she is sleeping. I want to remember their sweet faces and kind gestures. Just today Connor came in from outside with a weed (that looked like some type of flower to him) and handed it to me and gave me a kiss, then walked away. Where did he learn that?

"Oh how I love you...you just brighten my day." All right, I know it isn't advice, but she had this remarkable way of making me feel like I was the most important person in her life and no one made her feel happier than me. The amazing thing is that I know she made everyone feel that special and important. I think that all of us grandkids could tell the other that we were her favorite, and each of us were.

My sweet little Carly shares the same middle name as her great grandmother (although I took creative rights and a little French lesson and threw another "e" on the end). Gramps said that she always told people that one of her great-grand daughters had her middle name.

I love you grams. I'll see you later.