They sat on the back row of the chapel, feet crossed neatly in the aisle where people walked into sacrament meeting in my parents’ ward. They were a long line of widows and a few elderly couples. Their well-set hair and brightly-colored tailored jackets were predictable parts of the scenery at church. They may have sat at the back of the chapel to distance themselves from perfumes, infants throwing Cheerios, or just because that is where they always sat. I think they sat there for the view.
Every week I knew that they were watching me and everyone else who walked into church. They were the silent cheerleaders in my life, and a smile was their greeting. I was surprised at how they knew my name or occasionally singled me out to talk about something, even years later when I would visit my parents’ ward during college or after I was married and living out of state. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have been surprised. Of course they knew me! They had watched me walk into church my whole life. They were my in-town grandmothers that I saw every week, unlike my own grandmothers that I would see only a few times a year.
My parents live in the same house they bought when I was two. They haven’t been to church in their ward in seven years because of missionary assignments. Eventually when their missionary service is over, they will go back to a ward that no longer has a long line of elderly women on the back row. I think that will be difficult for them. Their mentors and friends are almost all gone now.
We lost another of our grandmothers from the back row last week. Her name was Pat and instead of working on my “to do list” today, I decided to attend her funeral. She is one of the last of a beautiful group of friends who raised children together, served in the Relief Society together, and grew old together. I just had to go today so I could see a few of their faces again.
It was the right thing to do. I wanted to honor the steady influence she and the others have had in my life. Although this sister was unwell and unable to attend the temple for years, she renewed her temple recommend faithfully. The last temple recommend interview was just a few weeks before her death and she asked that they place her recommend in her hand before her burial.
This is the caliber of women with whom I attended church in my childhood. I was influenced by them when I was young, and memories of them make me want to be a better person now. They are angels to me because they watched over me… Sister Dunford, Sister Axelgard, Sister Asay, Sister Christensen, Sister Whittle, Sister Carter, Sister Hanna, Sister Stone, Sister Holcomb, Sister Davies, Sister Peterson, and more… (Only one from this list is still living.) Thank you for being my in-town grandmothers, steady, beautiful, and true to the faith.
