Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me.
The Carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality
~Emily Dickinson

This Saturday morning by grandmother died. It feels funny to call her my ‘grandmother’ because really she was my Neenaw. I don’t know where this particular grandmotherly name came from, but from the youngest of age I was told to refer to her as my Neenaw. In fact seeing it in typed format, makes me question it’s spelling.

I last saw my Neenaw at my wedding in 1998. If I remember it correctly, I didn’t know she was coming and it was a surprise. You might ask yourself, Why haven’t you seen your grandmother for over 8 years? It’s complicated really, my Neenaw has had a variation of dementia and Alzheimer’s for quite some time now. I have wanted to see her, but the disease kind of took over quicker than anyone thought, and she lived so very, very far away, that I was never able to see her after she left Austin, TX. While I wasn’t involved in the past few years of her life, I did have a unique relationship with my Neenaw. I am her oldest grandson of many, many grandchildren.

She worked at St. Edwards University in Austin, TX for years and years. In fact, it should more accurately be said that she ‘lived’ at St. Edwards University. This school was her life and her family! If I remember correctly she worked in the printing, switchboard, and mail area of the university. Meaning that just about everyone had to interact with her at some point in their day. For this reason, she become quite well-known on campus. She was mostly well known because she could dish out the punishment pretty good to just about anyone who deserved it; of course, she could love and comfort anyone who needed it as well. I remember watching her as a kid, and thinking that she must run the entire university with the way everyone cared so much about what she thought.

In the summer of 1991, I was able to live with her for two months while I worked for the Dallas Cowboys; who were holding training camp on the campus at St. Edwards. I can remember that anywhere I went on campus, I could just tell someone that I was Betty Cliff’s grandson, and get about anything I wanted. As well as an earful about why they loved my grandmother so much. Looking back now, I’m so grateful that I had the opportunity to live with her that summer; because sadly I don’t think many of my cousins had that opportunity afforded to them.

Tomorrow I will board an airplane and head to San Antonio, TX and officiate the funeral for my Neenaw as she’s buried with my grandfather at Ft. Sam Houston Cemetery. I feel so fortunate that I’m in a position to be intimately involved in the funeral for such an interesting woman. One of the perks of my job, is to be able to be the one to share and comfort at family funerals. I wouldn’t want anyone else to do my Neenaw’s funeral, but me.