Goodbye, Bushi

Anne Fochs
July 26, 1930-August 1, 2013

This morning the world lost one of the most beautiful people I have ever known. After a long battle with various health problems, my grandma passed away this morning. It's hard to do this right now, but writing is the only thing I know how to do in times like this.

To her grandkids, she was Bushi, which I was always told was Polish for "grandma". I have more memories than I can count going to Bushi and Papa's house growing up. Living just down the road, I often found myself there on a weekly basis, whether I was just stopping in for a second or there for the weekend while my parents were out of town. During the summer it was an almost guarantee that when you pulled into their driveway she would be elbows deep in her garden, covered in dirt. If she wasn't there she was taking a break on the deck, enjoying the weather and the birdsong coming from Papa's bird feeders. As time went on, that transitioned from her garden to her recliner, but I always got the same greeting when I walked up, and I'll never forget her old country accent calling out "Hey Tyler!" for as long as I live. 

She was tough. Man, was she tough. She built houses, picked blueberries, and hauled sap to make maple syrup as well as any man could. She loved to fish, and without fail would complain about the neighbor having tip-ups in her "spots" every winter. She had no filter, and I loved her for it. 

It's because of her that I even have this blog. She taught my mom how to cook, and my mom taught me how to cook. I'm pretty sure she thought everyone was constantly starving; you couldn't walk in the house without getting some type of food thrown at you. She loved to bake, and even when she stopped being able to eat her baked goods herself, it never stopped her from pawning them off to us or my aunt next door. 

Her big heart was especially melted by two things: dogs and babies. When my family first got our dog, Tracker, she made the biggest deal about us bringing him over so she could smell his paws, because apparently puppy paws are the best smelling things in the world. I wasn't about to tell her otherwise. Dogs were welcome in her house anytime, and if she could have taken care of one she would have had a Springer Spaniel by her side through her golden years. 

She loved her six kids and adored her seventeen grandkids and twelve great-grandkids. As we were all gathered in her room yesterday, a friend of hers stopped by with his three week old baby, and the surge of life that washed over her was remarkable. That scene of old meeting new, one life leaving as another just began, was a powerful moment. I'm incredibly appreciative to that man for bringing his child, even though I don't even know who he was. I truly believe that breathed a few more hours of life into her. 

While the next few days will be tough, at the same time I feel a sense of relief. The last 10 years haven't been easy for her, and she fought long enough. It's time to rest. RIP Bushi. We love you and will miss you more than you could ever know. I just hope there's a deck of cards and a romance novel up there waiting for her. God help heaven if there isn't.