Monday, November 17, 2008

Requiem for a Grandmother

The weather on Friday varied from morose to violent --- a dark gray drizzle that may have been a very thick fog followed by thunderstorms, followed by the drizzle. The clouds were low like a wet wool army blanket. Even I could have used a ray of sunshine, and I adore rain.

I drove to Varnville for my daughter-in-law Katy's grandmother's funeral. Through a combination of circumstances: packing and bringing the babies after taking scones, tea, and Devon cream to Mark's school for teacher appreciation day, the weather, the fact that Varnville has few street signs & have no sense of direction,... I was 15 minutes late. I missed most of the service, but what I heard was nice, comforting, and kind. The Baptist minister was a joyous minister who talked about Katy's grandmother teaching everyone to dance. He approves and said he couldn't understand why the Baptists ever frowned on dancing.

Katy, her sisters, her cousins, her niece who is old enough to know, her aunts and uncles were all very very sad. If there was a small sense of relief that her grandmother died before her Alzheimer's disease took away her personality, it was held close. She was an important, dancing part of their lives, and they will miss her.

Some people say they can't go on when a mother or grandmother passes on. I understand that feeling. There are times even now that I know I can't roast a turkey without calling my mother and asking her how long to cook it. There isn't a meeting that goes by without me wanting to call Mom and ask how to handle a point of parliamentary procedure or how to approach a sensitive issue and get the support I need. And no one can count votes like she can. But if I didn't go on, I would be denying my mother's life.

People come and go in our lives. Some leave us to move to Georgia, others leave us by dying. Some just drift away. And if we feel our life is diminished by their loss, we need to hold them in our heart, remember their lessons, and live a bigger, better life because they have given us love, experience, strength, skills, knowledge, and most of all our own Power.

1 comment:

Lydia said...

Wow. Sometimes you are so deep I can't even remember who you are. Not an insult. A definite compliment. Have I ever said I wish we lived closer? Yes? Well, I'll say it again. I wish we lived closer to each other. I miss you quite often.