My earliest memories are of Gran. Gran in her Diane Von Furstenburg dress and blue spectator heels. Gran with the western Texas sun setting behind her. Gran bringing my mother a bag of treats for the kids as we prepared to move from Clarksdale, MS to Spartanburg, SC.
Gran was fifty years old when I was born. I was not the firstborn grandchild or even the first granddaughter but I was named for Gran. We had an immediate connection.
Through my harrowing adolescence, I took solace in my relationship with Gran. She was my refuge. I spent summers in the sultry Mississippi delta. I flew into Memphis and Gran and Grandaddy would be waiting for me. We would make the 90 minute drive through lush cotton fields and carefully planted pecan groves down to Clarksdale. Grandaddy was jovial, charismatic. Gran was reticent, careful with her emotions. Gran never teased or tickled. When I was child, she may have treated me as such, but she treated me as an inferior.
Through my college years, I made many poor choices but I never lost touch with Gran. I would frequently ask myself, "Would Gran be ashamed of my behavior?". And I have written reams about how much she has influenced my life.
My thoughts tonight are about how much I influenced Gran's life. Did I remember the birthdays? Did I call just because? Did I write enough letters? What is enough?
I think I all I had. I have loved Gran to the fullest extent. I have shared secrets and traded recipes. I have called to share funny moments and I have called in deep despair. I have listened and disagreed, respectfully. We made a promise; whoever dies first will contact the other... and I believe it is possible.
She is, to borrow loosely from Tom Wolfe, the full measure of a woman.
So how will I carry on without her? Certainly, I have surrounded myself with trustworthy, lovable people. I have carefully weeded those whom I thought might be poisonous...like Sandy. The irony is not wasted upon me; cancer will claim both my most estranged and most endeared. The two people who have left the deepest impressions upon my soul will be taken by the same despicable disease.
The heart is lyrical; there are many tunes to be played. Gran has given me the necessary chords. When she is gone, I will still need to play.
1 comment:
Each new post is so amazing! I love these lines:
"The irony is not wasted upon me; cancer will claim both my most estranged and most endeared. The two people who have left the deepest impressions upon my soul will be taken by the same despicable disease.
The heart is lyrical; there are many tunes to be played. Gran has given me the necessary chords. When she is gone, I will still need to play."
I love the more frequent posts so keep it up, my dear friend!
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