This is the post that I made on the Memorial page of the Lansing State Journal about my grandmother. The names referenced in it are people that also posted on the memorial.
My grandmother and I weren't the closest over the last several years. As I grew up and my life changed I grew more distant from most of my family members. I guess I just felt that it was a part of my becoming independant...moving on and not really looking back. I regret not being around more often over the last 10 years. I regret not getting to know my grandmother better. I regret not having been as big of a part of her life as I could have been. Hindsight is 20-20, though, so instead I will remember the things that always made me smile about her.
Like my cousin Aaron mentioned below I remember going to her house and KNOWING that there was a new G.I. Joe guy there waiting for me. I remember the way that she would swim, all by herself, whenever the kids weren't in the pool just so that we couldn't get her hair wet. I remember her cup always at her side, but unlike Penny and Vaughn, I remember it being filled with Pepsi. I remember that Pepsi at her house always tasted just a little bit better. I remember the summer trip that she went with me to the Upper Peninsula. I beat her horribly in spotting Volkswagen Beetles...but I know I didn't, she just let me win. I remember her going down the water slide at the hotel we were staying in. I remember the police scanner and how strange I thought it was that she always had it on. I remember getting spoiled by her every time I went to visit. I remember getting to her house on Christmas morning and seeing that the living room was literally stuffed with presents. I remember many good things, and I'm sorry I didn't get to know her better as I grew up.
I'm not a religious person. I don't know if there is a Heaven. But one thing I do know...if there IS in fact a Heaven, my grandmother is there waiting for everyone that she cared about...and if there is a Heaven, I know that she's up there with a new kind of scanner...the kind that lets her listen in on all of our lives, just so that she can make sure that we're all always safe. Rest in peace, Grandma Burtch, because I miss you...and I'm sorry I wasn't there more often.