So, many of you are probably wondering where I've been. Well, things have been crazy for me for the past two months. Besides being swamped with work (May is my busiest month of the year, with October coming up second), I've also had a lot of personal things going on right now. Some of them are happy - we sold our house and moved locally, my little girl celebrated her 4th birthday yesterday (I'll post a slideshow soon), and we've been attending the annual rush of graduation, wedding and father's day events. I was finally starting to get caught up (thank you to all of my wonderful clients who are the most patient and understanding people ever). But then yesterday morning, my father called me to tell me that my grandmother passed away. She had been having health issues and was in the hospital for surgery, but she was expected to make it even though she was in a lot of pain.
I was upset of course, partly because of her actual death and partly because I thought of all of the times that I should've called or written and didn't. The biggest upset was that she never met Nolan. I try to make a trip down there twice a year, in the spring and in the fall. But last fall, Nolan was just a newborn and this past spring Nolan still hadn't outgrown his passionate hate for the car (if you ever want to know mental torture, sit in an enclosed vehicle with a screaming baby - it will seriously drive you insane after 10 minutes). So, we decided to wait until this fall to take the 12 hour drive down there. My grandmother lives down in Louisiana in a town that doesn't know that it's not 1955 still. I've been visiting it ever since I was born and can't imagine going there without her being there to greet me.
My grandmother lived a simple life - she grew up with very little and was the elementary school cook for many years before retiring. She had four children - my father being the oldest. She told me that she always imagined having four children. When she was a girl, she would pretend with her dolls and there were always four of them. Neither her or my granpa had a college education. They were blue-collar workers that worked hand-to-mouth. Everything they earned went to putting food on the table and a small roof over their heads. But somehow, her and my grandpa managed to get all four of their children to graduate college, a feat even in families where money is plentiful. She may not have had a lot of money, but she valued education and knew that it was the key to raising her children up to a better lifestyle.
This is a picture of my grandma and I at my wedding, 5 years ago. I specifically asked my photographer to take a picture of my grandma and me - I knew I didn't have one and wanted to make sure that I got one. Reasons like this are why I never refuse to take a picture that's requested of me (and many that are not requested). Although sometimes I wonder about the fate of the picture of Aunt Sally with her bridge partners, I know that most pictures will have a use somewhere down the line. I never printed this picture out, I never hung it on my wall. But my grandma did - and now I have it to remember her by.
It took me a long time to understand my grandparents relationship. They were almost never affectionate and rarely spoke of each other with love in their eyes. And I honestly just didn't get it. Why would you spend so much of your life with someone who you weren't crazy about? I remember my grandmother always telling me of a time when my Uncle Mike asked her if she ever thought of leaving my grandfather (this was while he was going through a divorce). She said, "Of course! But I had four children to raise and that was more important than my own happiness." I didn't understand it when I was 18, and my current happiness with my own husband makes it still difficult to understand. But now that I have 3 kids of my own, I'm starting to get it. In a world where most think of the short-term gain and immediate enjoyment, my grandmother knew that she had to make it work with my grandpa. That's a lesson I hope I always remember.
Before my grandmother started getting weaker, she cooked - and I mean she cooked in the southern way - it was fatty, sugary and sooooo yummy. There was always food at her house - especially home-baked desserts. I remember holiday visits during the winter when her screened-in back porch served as a refrigerator for the overflow from her tiny kitchen. Fudge was one of her favorites to make. She could cook for an army in that little 8x8 kitchen of hers.
I can remember so many moments spent in that little house of hers. I remember having so many conversations with her and now I'm struggling to remember everything she said, everything that she told me. I used to look through all of her old photo albums as she told me who everybody was and even to this day, I know I won't be able to recognize everybody without her. She kept a family bible in her family room that had everybody's birthdays and anniversaries - it was the only way I remembered those things.
I remember her strength when my grandpa passed away 7 years ago. There was very little room in her life to get lost in her grief. She spent more time consoling other people than she did expressing her own pain. She has witnessed so many of life's ups and downs, experienced by both her as well as watching her children go through it - births and deaths, marriages and divorces, smiles and tears, achievements and disappointments.
I'll miss you so much, Grandma and I wish you were here to hug me and tell me with your matter-of-fact voice that this is life and I just have to take it for what it is and keep on living.
