In The Midst of Life

Please pray for the soul of my grandmother, Harriet Merrill Egan, who passed away over the weekend. I take my middle name, Merrill, from her maiden name.

I say "passed away" as the accepted euphemism, which sounds lingering and languid, but it seems, from what the medics tell us, that she died suddenly, just like that, from a heart attack, probably before she hit the floor. I think she would have appreciated that. There was nothing lingering and languid about Grandma -- she was all Irish, brisk and active, "sharp as a whip", as my brother said. She had been ready to go, and when it was time, she went, though we weren't expecting it quite so soon.

Saturday morning I was looking through some photos of the girls that I'd meant to send out to family members in April or May but, true to form, had forgotten all about. I thought that I really ought to send pictures to Grandma, but I wasn't in any hurry. It could wait the weekend, surely, and we were going down to Cincinnati for a last-minute bridal shower for my brother's fiancee, who becomes Mrs. Egan in three quick weeks, and anyway, Grandma was probably coming to the wedding, health permitting. But on Sunday afternoon, as the girls and my mom and I loaded up the van with packages from Crate and Barrel before heading out to the shower, I checked my phone to pull up a map of where we were going and saw I'd missed a text from my dad:

Grandma found dead this morning.

And so, after some quick prayers, we headed out to the shower, trying to think out the logistics of remembering the late Mrs. Egan as we prepared to celebrate the future Mrs. Egan. Again, Grandma would have appreciated that, that life went on and we didn't stop right away and make a big fuss over her when there was a wedding coming right up.

Pray for us, too, as we drive the family out to New Jersey for Friday's funeral.

Grandma singing the old Irish songs with the help of the latest technology.