I’d spent a lot of time with my grandmother in the past few months, but I was saying to a friend how I wished I’d seen her one last time. My friend said sometimes it’s easier to handle loss if you can focus on what you’re grateful for, rather than what you regret, so I’d like to share some of the things I’m grateful for.
I’m grateful for my Grammy. In many ways she was the quiet matriarch of the family. I’m so fortunate – we all are – that we had Grammy in our lives for so long. Most of my friends lost their grand parents 10 even 20 years ago. I am so lucky that I had so much time with her. I was constantly seeing my grandmother in new ways, getting to know different aspects of her life, her personality, her love. I know a large part of my changing perspective on her was an artifact of me growing up, but I also believe that in many ways my grandmother became more alive before she passed.
We all know Helen had a special spunk. She was what one might call “a hot ticket.” If I had called her that she might have playfully slapped me and told me I was being fresh. But, after a brief pause, she would lean over, put her hand on my arm, and in a secretive whisper say, “I like it when you’re fresh.”
My grandfather often told me the story of the night he and Grammy met at a USO dance. One part of the story I didn’t hear until very recently was their first conversation. When Grampy finally got up the courage to go over and speak to Grammy, he said he’d been watching her all night. Helen’s reply. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
Well, I’m grateful he didn’t, because the beginning of that love story is the beginning of Helen for all of us. The way my grandparents spoke of one another, treated one another, loved one another, is not something entirely of this world. They have given me a model for love, friendship and partnership that I’m not sure I can ever achieve, but for which I will always strive. Grammy always talked to me about her love for Bob and her children. Being a wife and a mother brought joy to her life. I am so grateful for having been able to bask and grow and share in that joy.
Another favorite story of mine was one she told of Mrs. Zartarian next door. They were friendly for many years, and one day she told Grammy she had a favor to ask. Mrs. Zartarian had lost her sister, and Grammy had lost her brother, and Mrs. Z said she would be very honored if she could call Helen her sister. And so it was that a Polish woman and an Armenian woman became their own type of family. Grammy taught me the many meanings and shapes of love, friendship and family.
One of the things I am most grateful for is my Grammy’s sense of humor. One her 95th birthday last summer she expressed to me the importance of humor. She said she had to laugh – if you couldn’t laugh, you should just dig a hole and crawl in it. A few months later when things were getting a little tougher, I reminded her of what she had said. “I said that?” she asked me. And when I assured her she did, she said my grandfather must have been slipping her some of that Polish vodka.
Grammy really was the quiet matriarch. She held on for a long, LONG time. She stayed on this Earth to make sure everyone she loved was okay, and when she finally felt she had done all that she could, she let go. She’s still watching us. She’s still with us. A little piece of Helen lives on inside each one of us. And if we can all be a little more like her in our own lives, we’ll all be better people for it.
Grammy worked for 95 years, and it’s her time to rest. So please, Grammy, sleep. Sleep deep. Rest. You did so much work, and we are your product. For that we are all grateful; I hope we make you proud and do justice to your memory.
Of all things, I am most grateful that I had to opportunity to get to know her, not just as my grandmother, but as a person. Not just as Grammy, but as Helen.
I love you.
I’m grateful for my Grammy. In many ways she was the quiet matriarch of the family. I’m so fortunate – we all are – that we had Grammy in our lives for so long. Most of my friends lost their grand parents 10 even 20 years ago. I am so lucky that I had so much time with her. I was constantly seeing my grandmother in new ways, getting to know different aspects of her life, her personality, her love. I know a large part of my changing perspective on her was an artifact of me growing up, but I also believe that in many ways my grandmother became more alive before she passed.
We all know Helen had a special spunk. She was what one might call “a hot ticket.” If I had called her that she might have playfully slapped me and told me I was being fresh. But, after a brief pause, she would lean over, put her hand on my arm, and in a secretive whisper say, “I like it when you’re fresh.”
My grandfather often told me the story of the night he and Grammy met at a USO dance. One part of the story I didn’t hear until very recently was their first conversation. When Grampy finally got up the courage to go over and speak to Grammy, he said he’d been watching her all night. Helen’s reply. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
Well, I’m grateful he didn’t, because the beginning of that love story is the beginning of Helen for all of us. The way my grandparents spoke of one another, treated one another, loved one another, is not something entirely of this world. They have given me a model for love, friendship and partnership that I’m not sure I can ever achieve, but for which I will always strive. Grammy always talked to me about her love for Bob and her children. Being a wife and a mother brought joy to her life. I am so grateful for having been able to bask and grow and share in that joy.
Another favorite story of mine was one she told of Mrs. Zartarian next door. They were friendly for many years, and one day she told Grammy she had a favor to ask. Mrs. Zartarian had lost her sister, and Grammy had lost her brother, and Mrs. Z said she would be very honored if she could call Helen her sister. And so it was that a Polish woman and an Armenian woman became their own type of family. Grammy taught me the many meanings and shapes of love, friendship and family.
One of the things I am most grateful for is my Grammy’s sense of humor. One her 95th birthday last summer she expressed to me the importance of humor. She said she had to laugh – if you couldn’t laugh, you should just dig a hole and crawl in it. A few months later when things were getting a little tougher, I reminded her of what she had said. “I said that?” she asked me. And when I assured her she did, she said my grandfather must have been slipping her some of that Polish vodka.
Grammy really was the quiet matriarch. She held on for a long, LONG time. She stayed on this Earth to make sure everyone she loved was okay, and when she finally felt she had done all that she could, she let go. She’s still watching us. She’s still with us. A little piece of Helen lives on inside each one of us. And if we can all be a little more like her in our own lives, we’ll all be better people for it.
Grammy worked for 95 years, and it’s her time to rest. So please, Grammy, sleep. Sleep deep. Rest. You did so much work, and we are your product. For that we are all grateful; I hope we make you proud and do justice to your memory.
Of all things, I am most grateful that I had to opportunity to get to know her, not just as my grandmother, but as a person. Not just as Grammy, but as Helen.
I love you.
2 comments:
Beautiful. This brought tears to my eyes.
Thanks, Amanda!
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