I first met Connie when I arrived at her house from a cross country trip in a tight car with my husband to be, maid of honor, Rick’s best man and the usher for our wedding, none of whom she had ever met except her son. 

She held the small backyard wedding at her house near the C.M. Russell Museum in Great Falls, and I remember she had servers from the Jack Club with trays of hors d’hoeuvres mingling with the guests. She had carefully groomed her rose garden and set up a trellis for the occasion. 

So began a 40-year journey of a relationship with a woman who dubbed me her real daughter in the final days of her life, a title I told her I accepted with honor. 

Connie was one of the strongest women I have ever met. Yes there were times she fulfilled the role of “In-law” perfectly, but she was always there, and she stood firm in the toughest trials, and she loved her family dearly. 

I was given the gift of helping her in her final journey and learned more about her than I knew. In her greatest moments of pain, she made others laugh with her. She told hilarious jokes. She worried she wasn’t kind enough. And she wanted chocolate shakes.

So, Mom, I stayed awake all night  wondering where the sun went, and then it dawned on me. 

Thanks for all the sunshine. 

I was her first grandchild, and Grandma may not have been completely excited about earning the title at 49yo. And yet. When I was 8yo, Grandma sat me at the Jack Club bar with a Shirley Temple while she hung out with the dinner theater actors. When I was 17yo, and wore a dog collar that made my parents cringe because it was the 90s, Grandma nonchalantly said, "We wore dog collars too when I was your age." When I was 24yo, Grandma asked about a man I'd mentioned previously, and I told her that I cut him loose because he was driving me crazy. She replied, "Well sweetheart, I think men are put on this earth JUST TO DRIVE US CRAZY." When I was 30yo, Grandma advised my friend and me on the way to the Alaska Highway, "And don't pick up any hitchhikers. Unless they're AbSoLuTeLy GoRgEoUs" When I was 40yo, Grandma told me with zero hesitation, "40 is not too old to have a baby. Not at all. That's just fine." I don't know many people my age who grew up with a financially independent grandmother who owned a supper club. I like to think that a tiny bit of that staunch self-reliance maybe rubbed off on me over the years. She was completely my grandma, but she wasn't, yanno, A Grandma. She brought her own meaning to the title.

I love you, Grandma. Thank you for teaching me how to roll lefse, and for making sure my husband knows the difference between good lefse and bad lefse. We'll make sure Oskar learns these things too 🇳🇴🥰 I admire and am grateful for the fact that you died as you lived: 1000% on your own terms.

PS thank you for not hitting on my husband. Well, not exactly, anyways. ;)