Grandma and Grandpa Bean

I was going through some old pictures on the weekend, and decided to scan a few. There I am, in all my newborn glory, with my maternal grandparents, Edna and Clifford "Ky" Bean. Grandma and Grandpa were a huge part of my life for my first fifteen years.

They lived in California, but made arrangements to come to Nebraska when I was born. They were there the very next day, and stayed on for a bit to help Mom out. Dad was on alert at the base, and Aaron was a pretty good kid, but he did need some attention.

No matter how far away they were, they were active in our lives at all times. I'm sure they were delighted when Mom brought Aaron and I home from Spain to stay in the Sacramento area, and when Dad got assigned to Mather Air Force Base in Rancho Cordova. We never lived very far from them after that, and I'm glad I got so much quality time with them. Family trips to cut down Christmas trees, holidays spent together. It was very special, for all of us.

Grandpa passed away suddenly when I was thirteen--the day after Christmas. It was the first time death had touched my life, and it was shocking and devestating. We all rallied around Grandma. A year later, we all went to Maui for Christmas to get away from the sadness of that first anniversary. The next Christmas, when I was fifteen, Grandma was hospitalized with cancer. She passed away in February 1994.

Both are still missed.

I was so very lucky to have them as long as I did, and while I'm little miss Pagan Megan, I do believe that they are out there--sometimes, I even wonder if they're watching over me and protecting me. It's one of life's great mysteries, and it brings me comfort to believe that they are still around. At the very least, they live on in me, in Aaron, and in Mom.