The Soto Family Journey: The Celebration

So I flew home to Michigan for a few days while Jonathan stayed home with our sick kids, so I could attend my grandmother's funeral.

On May 30, my grandmother, Christine Vrable, passed away at the age of 95. Though it's sad, we can truly rejoice for the life she lived, the years she had, and for the celebration in heaven as she met Jesus, my grandfather, my Uncle Carl, and my cousin, Rodney. Her passing feels surreal - like the end of an era. She and my grandpa had 13 children, 45 grandchildren, 82 great-grandchildren, and 13 great-great-grandchildren. I am not exaggerating in the least bit. To know that that many people came from just two people is beyond me. I can say that my life, and the lives of my cousins, were beyond blessed. To grow up in a huge family, all of whom grew up within 10 minutes of each other, was the coolest thing. Holidays back home in Michigan were automatically remembered as days we would all go to Grandma and Grandpa's. There was noise and food and people crammed everywhere, and people all scrambling to steal the babies out of the arms of others. There were cousins of every age group, but the cousins in the age group of me and my siblings remember most of the days spent upstairs in our parents' old bedrooms, playing and even sometimes arguing. It's such a huge part of our childhood. It was just naturally the place we all would gather and come home to - Grandpa and Grandma's house.

Grandpa passed away in 2000. My cousin, Dean, retold the circumstances surrounding his death as he spoke at my grandma's memorial service. My grandpa had been in failing health, but was at home in their bed on the brink of death, while my grandma was in the hospital recovering from a heart attack and open heart bypass surgery. Upon hearing the news that my grandpa wasn't going to make it much longer, she checked herself out of the hospital, was driven home by one of my uncles and wheeled to my grandpa's bedside. She grabbed his hand and said, "Andy, it's the love of your life. It's okay to go now." And with that, my grandpa took one deep breath, and passed away, holding onto her hands, with all of their children around them. My grandma continued to live in that same farmhouse all of their children grew up in until about 1-2 months before she passed away. That house symbolizes so much for us. We all voiced at grandma's funeral that it's just never going to be the same again. The house where we gathered all of our lives will be no longer for us.

I was named after my grandma, who was actually born "Christina", but she changed it later to "Christine" because she didn't care for the former. Ha! As a few of my cousins mentioned at grandma's memorial service, every single one of us felt like the most special grandkid growing up - her favorite. She just had that way about her. She would let us spend the night in one of the upstairs bedrooms, traipse around in her old square dancing dresses, she and grandpa would give us $1 to spend at the store (which was a mistake to my big eyes thinking it'd be great to buy and eat a whole box of Little Debbie Ho-Ho's instead of just getting a couple candybars), and they'd let us do just about anything we wanted. Grandma loved kids, she loved flower gardening (and was known for her immaculate lawn), sewing, redoing furniture pieces, and the woman was a work horse! I swear Grandma was always getting into trouble for being on ladders, even well into her 80's. But the one thing that sticks out most for me when I think of Grandma, is the legacy of spirituality she and Grandpa left. When I hear the Bible verse about "praying without ceasing", I think of Grandma. The woman was ALWAYS praying. I can think of so many times I had my Grandma praying for me. And she wouldn't pray for things that were frivolous for us - just exactly what we needed. That's how I'll remember Grandma most - having such a strong prayer life.

My cousin, Rachel, took these beautiful photos of Grandma. The following one is perfect: it's what Grandma did several times a day - praying the rosary.

Grandpa and Grandma. When we were putting together a photo collage for the funeral home, we all smiled seeing how many pictures there were of Grandpa and Grandma smooching or doing things like this: