I had tears in my eyes as I read your story. I'm so proud of you. I know whatever you want to be, you'll do it.
I love your humanity, compassion, and insight. I love you not only because you're my granddaughter, but because you're full of all the qualities I admire most. You have many more great qualities, but those are ones I treasure most. You are a treasure and a real person.
Hugs,
Grandma Peggy
I've been reading old emails and comments from my Grandma, and this one stood out as possibly the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me and something I want to live up to the rest of my life. She wrote this back in 2008, on one of my old blogs that approximately two people read (my mom and my grandma). She has always been one of my biggest supporters. I realize that more fully now, which makes it hurt so much more deeply that she's gone. To lose that kind of light in your life--that kind of person who loves you how you need to be loved and is such a part of your history. It's a giant chasm that no one else can fill. Last night my mom came home from Oregon, and she gave me a bottle of my Grandma's favorite perfume, the one I remember her always smelling like. L'Air du Temps. Fragrances can so powerfully evoke the memory of a person. I pulled off the cap and breathed it in, and then came the tears.
* * * * *
Do you realize how much your words can mean to someone? The things you say and do, the trail you leave in your life... they are your legacy. You can change the world with them. You can change people, and that's the same thing as changing the world. Lately I've been more keenly aware of the trail I leave behind me. The things people will remember me by when I'm gone.
Humanity, compassion, and insight. Powerful words, and I can't tell you how much it means to know she saw those things somewhere in me...
I woke to my alarm this morning, and for a blissful and fleeting moment, I'd forgotten everything. That sweet ignorance before you're fully awake and aware, while everything is still warm and safe and OK. But realization soon washed over me, and I remembered. My grandma passed away yesterday. Suddenly. Unexpectedly. A blood vessel burst in her brain. My grandpa found her collapsed in their home in Oregon on Sunday, and ten or so minutes after my mom arrived at the hospital to join her dad and brother Monday afternoon, my grandma was gone. She'd been waiting for her family to all be there, it seemed.
I tend to deal with grief by getting angry. After Edd passed, one year ago tomorrow, I would get angry when friends or aqcuaintances felt what I thought was an inappropriate level of grief for an "old" person. They'd lived a long life, they'd had what everyone hopes for. Their time wasn't cut short at a too-young age, like Edd's was and like many others younger than even him. We all hope to live to be old, right? And death is a natural part of life. That should provide some solace and peace, I thought. And it does, a little, but I now have more compassion and the understanding that a loss is a loss, no matter how full the life. This loss of my Grandma, my sweet, sweet and wonderful Grandma whom I just saw three weeks ago, has been a kick in the stomach that has left me without breath. With Edd it was horrible and traumatic and I cried a million tears, but there was time to emotionally prepare, in a way. But my Grandma was perfect and healthy one moment, and dying and gone the next.
I had such a wonderful time with her when they visited three weeks ago... she had an extra sweetness about her, and a few times while she was here she wrapped me up in a hug that lingered, and she rocked me back and forth and said "I love you sooooo much." I held her arms and told her how very soft her skin was and that she smelled like Grandma (my favorite smell). She showed me her new Kindle Fire (she always had the latest technology... coolest Grandma ever), and we had Hungarian Beef and Cabbage their last night here, and talked about the past and their memories. The next day I wrote this post, and my mom found it printed out on their kitchen counter when she got there yesterday.
I just can't believe my dear and wonderful Grandma is gone, the kindest woman I've known. A part of my life my whole life. I took her for granted. Never thought she'd go this soon. My sweet, sweet Grandma. My heart breaks for my Grandpa, who will be lost without her after 60 total years together, and for my mom... to suffer this incredible loss at exactly the one year mark since she lost her husband. "I lost my two greatest fans," she said. And it seems so unfair and so random and so mean. It makes me angry. I hope to come away from this place of anger, because I don't like to be here.
I had planned to write a one year memorial post for Edd this week, but I think now I need to just take a little time off from blogging. The rest of the week, at least, and then we'll see.
This song below is beautiful and a huge comfort. Last night I took a bath to calm me and sipped a glass of wine left over from the bottle of my Grandma's Beringer White Zinfandel, her favorite. There was just enough left for one big glass, and I needed that last night. Thanks for saving it for me, Grandma. And I listened to this song, and my tears were as hot as the bath water and wouldn't stop coming.
In the Holy Kingdom
angels sing a hymn For all your good behavior
they handed you your crown and wings You don�t feel the sorrow;
there�s no pain or fear Don�t forget about me, don�t forget about me I�m still down here in the shadowland, here where there�s doubt
Here where we must learn to live
with what we live without
PS - thank you all for your incredibly kind comments on Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook yesterday. I appreciated them all more than you'll ever know.
This photo is from my Grandparents' senior prom back in 1953... I think it's just so hauntingly beautiful, but then again, I'm a little biased. :) My grandma's gown was powder blue, and she made it herself. My grandpa was looking handsome as ever.
They were in town this past week, and as always, I so enjoyed chatting with them and listening to stories from years passed. My grandpa was in the Korean War at the young age of 17, even earned a purple heart, and I learned of how narrowly he escaped death in the middle of one night in Korea where he was camped out with other soldiers... two other men had stubbornly refused to swap places with my Grandpa and "Tex" (a kid from Texas), even though they were supposed to switch guard or something (the men weren't being noble, they just wanted to stay where they were at for some reason), and moments later those two men were dead from flying shrapnel. If it weren't for their sacrifice, my grandpa wouldn't be here today, and neither would the complex set of DNA that makes up me. It was such a haunting revelation. Two young men I'll never know died in war in the 1950's, and because of them, I exist.
Amazing how interwined all our stories are. How every decision you make affects someone, somewhere, who may be living now, or may be living in 60 years.
After my grandpa served his 12 months in the Korean War, he returned home to New Jersey and high school... can you imagine? Going back to high school after serving in a war? He and my grandma met and dated, and he saved up his dimes until he had $250 for her ring. They'd spend weekends in New York City going to Broadway shows, and my Grandma, who was born in the Bronx, said they'd have to tell me all about their adventures in the city some day. I'll hold her to that!
I believe it's important to know and understand the people you come from, if you can. Their stories will make you laugh and cry and usually teach you a little something about yourself, too. I recently bought my grandparents this book and this book, and can't wait to read their answers. :)
My mom and grandma made my favorite Hungarian Beef and Cabbage last night... recipe here
