Remembering Gram

I thought that in memory of my grandma Doreen Audrey Burn, I would share the eulogy I gave at her funeral. We will always love and miss you Gram! 

Doreen Audrey Burn 1/28/1928 - 8/21/2009 

Each of us is here today because in some way my grandmother touched our lives. For me in particular my grandma was the strongest influence in my life that guided me on the path to the person I am today. From my very first memories I was my grandmothers girl. I am even blessed with her striking red hair.

In so many ways my grandmother passed on the things she loved to me. My grandma was the caretaker in the family. She was a nurse. She worked multiple shifts some days to help support her children. I loved sitting at grandma’s table while she drank her coffee and put on her face as she called her morning make up routine while she told me stories of taking care of her patients. In all honesty, I attribute these morning sessions and her life long encouragement as the source of my motivation to become a doctor. Grandma always said she wanted to make it to be there to watch me graduate from medical school, although she didn’t quite get there, she came this past April to Washington and spent a day as a medical student. My mom and Buzz wanted to skip class in the afternoon but not my Grandma. She wanted to be right there in the middle of the action, learning about what was new in medicine. I am so glad she was able to experience medical school. It was probably more meaningful than watching me walk across a stage.

My grandma also helped many others though out her life. She once cared for a boy with the stove-pipe legs and she had to put stiff jeans on him every day. She recalled how hard she worked taking care of him. After she retired and her grandchildren were in school during the day, she volunteered at North Oakland Medical Center in the recovery room. But her most loved charity was the Tutwiler Clinic in Mississippi. I had no idea as a child that not every family had a constant Tutwiler box going. This was the box where you put clothes that no longer fit and toys you had out grown. When full, the box was shipped down to Mississippi to help the families in Tutwiler.  My grandma told me stories of how in the 1980s she got on a plane and headed straight down there to help the Sisters take care of the people of Tutwiler.  I remember how much she loved getting letters from the Sisters or Josie the nursing student that she and my grandpa put through school.

I have so many memories of my grandma. And although we took many adventures together the most meaningful memories took place at her house and at Schuss. I always loved sitting on her lap as a small child and snuggling so close to her chest. She always smelled of perfume or chardonnay and in the winter of her fur coat. I remember how soft and warm she was how my head nestled perfectly on to her chest, how she would rub my back and sing songs to me.

Whenever I was sick as a child we went to Grandma’s house. Grandma always made me feel better. She would make the best oatmeal or chicken soup, let me watch Regis and Kathie Lee and bring cool cloths to place on my forehead. I remember having the flu as a child and my grandma sitting up with me all night as I was sick. She was the best medicine for any illness. She could instantly quiet any tears with her grandma sugars.  I loved sleeping over at grandma and grandpa’s house. I remember lying in bed between the two of them with the soft light on so they could read while I fell asleep. I am not sure how many grandparents let their grandchildren sleep in bed with them but mine sure did. There was no place warmer, safer or where I felt more loved the nestled in between my two favorite people on earth.

My grandma enjoyed the finer aspects of life. She loved to use fancy words for everyday things just to make things a little more special. The couch was not called the couch it was the divan. According to Grandma naps on the divan were more restorative than a nap on an ordinary couch. Grandma had quite a few collections, most memorably her doll collection. My childhood memories will forever include the Shirley Temple dolls. Each granddaughter got hers on her 12^th birthday.  Grandma and Grandpa believed in special holiday dinners and stays at the Kingsley hotel and trips to see the Nutcracker. Grandma always was willing to take us to the pool at Schuss or down to Pine Lake. It was as if her sole purpose in her life was to spoil her grandchildren rotten. I think we can all say she succeeded. 

But that is not to say that my grandma did not have rules, because she did.  First rule, you must like potatoes. If you do not like potatoes you are not invited for dinner and you are kicked out of the Irish club. Second rule, the most important holiday is St. Patrick’s Day. St. Patrick’s day and Ireland will be celebrated at all other holidays, especially at Christmas. We all love the now famous Irish Christmas Tree. Third rule, never dye your hair. I think this rule applied mainly to me but I am sure she told it to each her grandchildren when we reached that age where purple or pink stripes in the hair was trendy. Grandma also taught me to shop. Her advice on the stock market was thumbs up ok to go shopping that day. Thumbs down, that day you stay home. Back to school shopping with Grandma was the best.  My favorite part was coming home and trying everything back on to show Grandpa what we got. He always was so enthusiastic and patiently watched our fashion show.

My grandparents introduced me to travel. From family vacations to Schuss or Florida, to Disney World, horseback ridding in Tennessee, summers in Mackinac and of course colonial Williamsburg. Grandma always said that one day we would go to Ireland. Although we never quite made it there, for my 20th birthday Grandma and Grandpa took me on a cruise to the Bahamas. I am sure that Grandma would rather have seen the rolling green hills but at 20 I was more interested in the beach.

I am sure that at some point each person in this room received a letter in the mail from my grandma. She was a great letter writer and I will miss her notes terribly. They usually included a clipping from the paper of something that she thought I would be interested in. For me any article about a doctor was included. Always signed with and xoxo gram with some stickers. Gram usually put some money in the card with a note that said pretend you are having a cup of coffee with me. She took hers black.  

Although we will forever miss my grandma Dorie, each of us can continue to do the things she loved. We must remember each day to help those that are less fortunate. Keep those Tutwiler boxes going. We can put others before ourselves. We can maintain that fightin’ Irish spirit and never give up no matter how hard things may seem. We can remember to dance in the kitchen to Don Ho, drink chardonnay or hooch and even out the edges of the brownie pan. That sometimes you just have to stop and take a breathe.  ALWAYS celebrate St. Patrick’s day. 

Some favorite pictures: 

My Grandpa and Gram at their wedding

Four generations of first born women: Beatrice Anderson, Doreen Burn, Sally Brown and me

My Gram leaned to swim as an adult. She was so proud!

Gram, my sister Melissa and I in outfits she bought on a trip to Austria and Germany

At the Day in the Life of a Medical Student 

All things Up North

We are very close to the one year anniversary of the day we lost my sweet grandma. As I stared thinking of her I was drawn to our favorite place up north, Schuss. That place had character. Gathered over the 30+ years it was in my family. So much of my childhood was spent there that it is hard to separate the memories. Here is a smattering of images not the exact copies of what was actually up there but subtle details of our home and up north

My Gram loved cows there were probably thousands of cow items at Schuss. One of my favorites was a picture of two cows poking their heads through a window. The frame was built to look like an actual window. 

The infamous rooster lamp!

A favorite place to grab Torch Lake Lemonade and burgers right on Torch Lake. Pull your boat up to the dock and enjoy!

Love

There are things in life that speak to each of us in different ways. This week I was reminded of how important love is. I know its cheesy but it's true. On Thursday I came home to a surprise package. It was lost in the mail for a while but somehow made it to my door. Inside was the most beautiful handmade blanket. I lost my most beloved Gram about one year ago on August 21st. She was one of the most important people in my life. Each day I miss her. So much of her is still visible in my life. Every day there are little things that remind me of her. These memories I hold very dear, but she is still gone. I cannot call her on the phone and tell her in gory detail about my day. I don't get her cute cards and notes in the mail any more. I miss her laugh, how she smelled, how soft she was to hug. But I am so lucky because I still have my amazing, awesome, hero of a grandpa and I have another set of grandparents who have sort of adopted me. The beautiful surprise care package was from them, my non-blood related grandparents, Dee and Cal.

Dee hand kit each of the thousands of stitches that make up this blanket. It is all shades of blue and maybe from the title of this blog you might be able to tell I love blue! The first entry is all about beds and blankets and snuggling under soft things and how that to me is love. When I opened the package the first thing I did was wrap the blanket around my shoulders. My mind immediately jumped to all the wonderful nights or cold afternoons I would spend snuggled under this beautiful creation. Blankets are a thing of comfort. I always pick the softest most well-worn one when I am sick or sad or exhausted. I know that this blanket handmade with so much love will be a huge part of my life going forward. I am sure that someday I will spread this blanket down on the ground and let my kids have tummy time on it, maybe they will even crawl for the first time on it. I am pretty sure I will use it to tuck them in tight when they are sick and need that little extra bit of comfort. I could not imagine a more thoughtful or perfect gift. I am so lucky to have such wonderful people in my life. My dear Gram might not be here anymore but she has some amazing people filling in for her. Some people never get to meet their grandparents I was born with six living grandparents and along the way found two more.

Here is some detail the beautiful hand knit blanket that Dee so lovingly made. It is all new and shiny now but I actually cannot wait until it is worn in, a little softer from a tear or two, a runny nose, nights of late night laughter or deep restful sleep. Life will eventually get worn in between each stich making it all the more valuable.

Beds

Bedding from college selected with Gram

There is something so comforting for me about my bed, although now, it is really our bed, the one I share each night with Kevin. I think that part of my love for beds and all things soft comes from my mother who always travels with her own pillow. We took many long car trips when I was growing up and pillows packed in the backseat were as essential as tissues and the home-baked snacks my mom packed.

In college my friends loved my bed. It was always overflowing. My freshman year it was overflowing with my clothes. I shared 600 square-feet with two other people, I was 18 and had not yet developed my ability to keep a room clean. My roommate and dear friend Lizzy would say my bed threw up each night, as I pushed the pile of corduroy pants and warm sweaters to the floor. We did go to school in Maine and layers to keep you toasty were essential. By my senior year, we had graduated to an off-campus house with 13 bedrooms - one for each of us, so my overflowing bed was no longer a bother to anyone. My room was tiny but I painted it a soft blue. Eighty-percent of the space was occupied by my bed and an overflow of pillows. I still own the now well-worn bedding that I shopped for with my beloved Gram before starting my senior year of college. It is white with soft blue and yellow flowers. Layers of L.L. Bean blankets were piled under the duvet and I often came home from class to find my best girl friends piled in my bed watching DVDs trying to stay warm on cold Maine winter days.

For me, love has always been shared in bed. Growing up we were a cuddling family. I crawled into my parents bed on countless nights never to be pushed out or even put back in my own bed. My mother simply rolled over and told my dad to make room for "a kid" as she always said. Even when I went to spend the night at my grandparents house I vividly remember falling asleep to the soft light, tucked safely between my Gram and Grandpa. They would read as I feel asleep. My Gram usually in her peach cotton nightgown, grandpa in his tighty-whities and undershirt.

My sister Melissa getting a bath at Schuss by Gram. A 2 year old version of me is probably trying to help.

In medical school, after an especially bad week my mom sent me a quilt that had once kept me warm in my favorite bed on earth, a bed at Schuss, my family's vacation home in Northern Michigan. The quilt is now a prized offering to family visitors as all remember sleeping so comfortably beneath it at Schuss.

Schuss Quilt

I have never actually been a good sleeper. I was never one to take naps even as a child and am always up way too early now, but beds remain a place of solace and comfort for me. I love the current iteration of our bed. For most of my life I was not a bedmaker, my rational was that you were going to climb back into it. But somewhere along the way I learned to enjoy climbing into a freshly made bed especially if the sheets have been freshly washed. I try to make our bed most days. One thing I love is coming home on days when Kevin has been the last to get out of bed. He tries to remember to make up the bed because he knows I appreciate it. His idea of bed making is slightly different than mine. The edges of the bed are usually crooked and the comforter is usually touching the floor but he places the pillows on with care and as my mother would say "it warms my heart" to see his effort.

On days like today, when Kevin is working nights and we will not share even 5 minutes in bed at the same time, I find comfort in knowing that the same blankets that cover me will later keep him warm. He rests during the day and I know that when I get home from work the bed will be there made in his own loving way ready for me to sleep in while he works.

Our bed made with love by Kevin