Dazzling Blue

Today in church I was reading the Crayola color names whilst trying to make it through a slightly uninspiring talk (c'mon, you do it too). Wild Strawberry, Mountain Meadow, Eggplant. I stopped reading them when I got to this one: Pacific Blue. I had an instant movie in my head--images of the coast, the tides, crabbing, the beach houses, and our long drives there and back. My movie stopped in The Dalles, Oregon, where my grandparents lived. We visited that forbidden place more times than I can count, and almost always on the way to the coast. (I not-so lovingly referred to it as The Bowels.)

I stopped the daydream at this point because today marks the 10th anniversary of my grandma passing away. She was a lot like me in many ways--not afraid to say exactly what was on her mind and always ready for an adventure. She had a tough life, but I admire her for being strong, for never giving up. I like to think that she is cheering me on and has carried me through these past few years. I imagine that she is proud of my decisions--that I've been able to make choices that maybe she wanted to make and never could. There is a small but constant ache in my soul that can only be filled by Grandma Day. Today I read this phrase over and over:

We believe all things
We hope all things
We have endured many things, and
Hope to be able to endure all things.

I picture my grandma's life as having endured all things. This feels like the unofficial motto of my life-I hope to be able to endure all things, as she did.