(as for the picture, I remember we stopped to tour caverns on our way to Nate and Rebekah’s wedding and that Grandma preferred pushing the wheelchair to sitting in it, but I don’t remember why I decided to take a seat!)

     I visited with Margaret at every Eagle June gathering. I was always struck by what a wonderful time she seemed to be having. Not everyone enjoys their in-laws that much!

     Margaret had a beautiful voice. My mother, Helen Eagle Glannon, loved to hear Margaret sing. At most family reunions, Mom would arrange for Margaret to give a little concert. This usually took place at Joe and Kay’s.

     Margaret always struck me as a “Let’s Get It Done” kind of person. Here are two examples of that. Years ago she wrote to me saying that it was a shame that Edward Glannon’s beautiful paintings were hidden away in an attic. Tom, Joe and I agreed and over ten years placed all of Dad’s paintings in museums across the country.

     Here’s a second example of Margaret’s “Let’s Do Something About It” attitude: In my 2020 Christmas card I wrote that it was hard being so far away from our children. Margaret wrote me back that her children had provided her with a portal that she could use to see and talk with them, and I should get the same thing. She even sent me the address where I could get the portal!

Pictured Helen Glannon, Margaret Eagle, Doretha Eagle,  Eddie Glannon

I didn't know my grandmother as well as I would like, to the best of my memory I only really had one experience alone with her to learn about her and her life. It was a 5 hour car ride from Spokane to Helena where I gave her a ride back home from my sister Mary's graduation party from the Whitworth Masters Degree program. It was a nice car ride, and it gave me a great chance to learn about my grandfather Harold, who passed away when I was quite young. I remember the last 100 miles especially fondly. We were starting to run low on gas and she and I shared many jokes and bets on whether or not there would be another gas station before we got to Helena. (There wasn't, but we made it there. Barely.) She treated me to lunch at one of her favorite restaurants that made a pretty solid Ruben. The next day I continued to West Yellowstone where I worked my first summer at our family store.

Aside from that trip, we didn't spend a lot of time together. However I certainly felt her presence and love in the handwritten Christmas and birthday cards she sent every year, in her making the trip out to Tacoma for Amanda's and my wedding at the age of 95, and in all the ways she passed her love and affection into her children. I grew up in a very loving home and always knew that I had family both within and outside the household who cared about me and thought I was special. I think a lot of that came from love that was passed down to my parents from their respective parents. For that I will be eternally grateful. 

My grandmother lived a remarkable life, and lived long enough to endure the pain of outliving her friends' children who had become companions to her as well. She faced the end of her life with peace and a strong faith that she would be at her Father's side. I hope one day to be able to face death with the same grace and resilience as she did. I will miss her, but I am happy that she is at peace.

Thank you to everyone for the kind messages, both posted and sent through text over the past week. I haven't responded to all of them but that doesn't mean they didn't bring me comfort. I love you all, and look forward to a time when we can get together again.

Once, in the hospital, she hemmed the skirt I needed to go to the state science fair.

 

A significant part of her project was directed toward making me into her concept of a proper young lady. It started with three years of piano lessons during grade school which I hated; followed by speech lessons which I did not dislike until I had to perform for others; then, swimming lessons and ski lessons which I loved. She decided voice lessons would be wasted after listening to Dad and me sing while doing the dishes. She had me join 4-H so I would learn to sew and pulled out many poor seams for me. She worked at the Campfire Camp for two weeks so Joan and I could go. She made me take typing in summer school so I would have a skill. She made sure I learned how to properly fold napkins and set a formal table while constantly reminding me to stand up straight.  

 

She got me the proper little black dress for college, little knowing that college was where she would lose control of her project. She always provided support when asked and enthusiastically shared the highpoints of my life.

 

I was fortunate to have her in my life for so long. 

Thank you, Mother.

 

A few years ago, I drove to West Yellowstone to view the animals at the Grizzly & Wolf Discovery Center. However, a visit would not be complete without stopping at the Eagle’s Store. And, sure enough, an older lady there recalled the many times she’d talked to Margaret during one of her visits.

 

I left the store carrying a green filled water bottle with a bison and Yellowstone National Park emblazoned on the front. And every time I look at it, I think of Margaret and her Yellowstone connection.