Sylvia Landrum

I had all but given up… keeping up with this ol’ blog. With the arrival of Instagram, snap chat, Insta stories and facebook, a blog seems somewhat antiquated. But then my 13 year old asks me, ‘When are you going to renew your blog?’  to which I ignore. Then my mom, then my other daughter.. And finally, Mr. R who says, ‘just renew it already. You will be sorry if you don’t.’  They are probably right– while these posts are more like ramblings than anything, the intent has remained constant over the past 11 years since inception. Keeping memories for prosperity.

So here we are.

And in light of recent events, it seems more important now than ever.

The last time I posted was on March 21, 2017.

That night, Mom had an impromptu dinner at her house for my never ending birthday.  We had our extended family with usual odd family discussions of bathroom habits, fashion, and on this particular evening– family genealogy.   Mom didn’t even complain about the mess all the little people left behind when I called to thank her.

Everything in our house changed the next day.

Britton was home sick and I had a doctor’s appointment that morning (welcome to 40).  Around lunch time Britton called me asking for Panera for lunch. Feeling guilty that she was home sick for a second day (the girl doesn’t like missing school) had me leave the office once again, telling my co-worker I wouldn’t be more than 20 minutes, to run through the Panera drive through for her chicken noodle soup.  One the way home I saw our yardman at the neighbors house which reminded me I needed to give him a check.  I parked my car, ran quickly inside, put Britton’s Panera bag on the counter, called up to her, and dashed back to Meme’s suite to give her the check for the yardman. She always likes a good task. I immediately knew something was wrong when I walked into her living room. The TV wasn’t on and she was slouched on the couch.  Always one to ‘pop up’ as to not catch her snoozing, Meme would never remain lying at the sound of her French doors clicking opening. As soon as I saw her I knew she was having a stroke.

I ran to the kitchen, grabbed the land line dialing 911- and instructed Britton to call my mom and tell her that I was calling the ambulance.

It turned out to be a catastrophic stroke. She passed away exactly fourteen days later.  Meme would have been 91 on April 19th.  We had reservations at Sea Island, where she has spent the better part of 60 years visiting, to celebrate her birthday.  We are all adjusting to our new normal- my children included.  Everyone mourns different, and has a different mourning maturity. We miss her very much – along with her organic food she would sneak into my pantry, trash bags she liked to stick up on, and the not-so-gentle reminders of, “Garrett did you feed Poochie yet?” everyday. Sylvia was one of a kind and will leave us telling her stories for a long, long time.  My cousin Heather said it best, “…. maybe feeling well and making memories to the very end is life’s ideal path.”

I couldn’t agree more.

Looking back via grateful simplicity

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