Well, let me preface this post by saying dinner was nice but Jambalaya it was not! Of course, watching my husband's cholesterol, I didn't use anduille and for lack of Tasso, I used regular hickory cured ham. Reading the hard core recipes from some of Gran's old cookbooks, I learned that a lot of southerners actually use (blech) oysters in their Jambalaya.
Tasso and Anduille aside, we enjoyed our meal. I'm not sure that I felt any closer to Gran but making something besides my regular staples was nice. Of course, a steaming bowl goes far to chase away the wicked cold outside. It is paralyzingly cold.
I hope the different clime will be warmer when I fly to Memphis next Friday. I hope that I can hold myself together.
Gran's memorial service is next Saturday. I feel strange about it. Maybe it is because it will have been 4 weeks since her passing when we finally eulogize her. Maybe it is because I know that I have already shared everything I had with her. I'm not sure.
I want to believe that I have worked through my grief and that I will be fine next weekend. Yet, how will I react when I see Grandaddy for the first time in memory without Gran?
There will be no viewing, as Gran donated her body science. I have been told that I would not have recognized her in her last days. When I think of her, I picture her as she was in 1976. Steely gray hair, black highly arched eyebrows, round brown eyes... trim, curvy, petite figure swathed in a navy blue patterned Diane Von Furstenburg dress and blue and white spectator pumps. She described herself as "handsome". I see her with her electric broom. I see the red Club pots and pans with which she used to cook. I see her making coffee with chicory.
I do not picture a hospital bed or morphine patches. I cannot see the vacuum used to suction mucus from her mouth. I rarely remember her without hair.
Cancer took her life but it cannot rob me of my memories.
I hope I smile next Saturday. I hope I laugh with my cousins and drink Yellow Birds and Champagne and tell funny stories like the one about Gran at the Kentucky Derby when it poured rain and her hat brim dissolved and fell around her neck like a yoke.
Mostly, I hope I walk away with some of her grace, her poise, her strength. I hope I hold my head a little higher and my childrens hands a little tighter. Maybe I hope that I can find Gran's God... I don't know. I will just be happy if I can manage a stiff upper lip, and a smile.
1 comment:
Well you have an amazingly positive attitude about this. I hope you do laugh with your cousins and share funny memories... my cousins and I had a snowball fight after my Mimi's funeral - she would have loved it. And I know your gran would love to see all of you together - smiling.
But you will also grieve and tears will be shed - let yourself do that too.
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