Tuesday, January 6

Gram

I've written about Gram before. You can get a glimpse of her here, or here. Her birthday is in February, and this was to be her 100th birthday. Can you imagine? I can't. I've known many people in my life, but none who had the vigor and wit and inner strength of Gram. But in spite of the strength of her spirit, her body was just worn out. Gram passed away during the night, on December 30th.

I've sat here for several days, trying to find the words. But they aren't coming. Gram was nearly 100 years old. I have only known her for 13 years. Everything I know and love about her is only a very, very small portion of who she is, and what others love so very much about her. How can I sum up something as large as that?

Gram raised six children. She always said four girls and two boys was the perfect family for her. Her daughters are all amazing women, and the kind of living legacy that makes you teary-eyed just thinking of the amount of love, fortitude, humor, wit, generosity and kindness that had to have been embodied in one woman for her to raise such incredible women. And share them with the world. How humbling.

Gram was always busy, always productive. Nothing would make her cranky quicker than not being able to *do* something. She loved to visit with people, tell stories, listen to stories, share jokes. She loved poetry and literature. She loved nature, and animals. She loved her family. She loved to be doing, going, sharing. Even when macular degenration took her eyesight, she still crocheted up until very near the end. She made blankets for each of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Even down to Jase, who is the youngest. He has a Gram blanket. I'm not sure I can part with it, though, so maybe we won't tell him, just yet, that it's his?

Years ago, she took it upon herself to teach me how to knit, tat, and crochet. She's never had a poorer pupil. Willing, but somewhat dexterously daft, to be honest. Part of it was that I spent so much time wrapped up in just watching her, listening to the stories she told while she worked, that I forgot I was supposed to be doing something, myself. Stories of her childhood, traveling across the country. She loved living in Vermont. I think those memories were her happiest of her own childhood. Stories of her time at school, her time teaching, her time spent raising the children in a boxcar... I will cherish the time I spent sitting on the couch with Gram, my fingers cramped up and yarn knotted around my ankles, listening to Gram's stories. I still can't knit. Or tat. But I know my family, and the boys' histories, a little better because of her.

Life can wear a soul down. Or it can lift a soul up. Gram had a dogged, fierce determination that Life is Good. There is, quite simply, no two ways about it. Like the complex blending of flavors in an excellent meal, Life needs all of it; it needs the bitter and the sweet, the tough and the tender, in order to be truly spectacular. You cannot embrace the one and resent the other. Not if you want to be truly happy.

That was, from my shortened perspective, one of the greatest things about Gram: Life is Good. All of it.

We're all better off for her time on this earth, and the lives she's touched will go on to touch other lives, and so on, in a ripple that will continue to make the world more beautiful with every ring that extends outward into the world.

Goodbye, Gram. You are loved.

Kiss those babies, grams, families, friends... because they are beautiful, and life is beautiful.
~Dy

16 comments:

Jennie C. said...

I'm so sorry you lost your Gram. And it's funny, too, because I was just thinking along those last lines this very morning: Never forget to tell the people you love how you feel, because there may not be another chance. One of the women here I've become so attached to isn't very long for this world. Her liver is failing and there is no cure or hopeful prognosis. But she's so optimistic! The other day, I went to her house and she showed me the nut trees she planted along her driveway. They're nothing more than two and a half foot tall sticks, but she plans to see a harvest. I'm not looking forward to that day I get the call she's gone, but I'm gonna love her as hard as I can as long as she's here.

Needleroozer said...

That was just beautiful, and left me teary. I know you loved her, and I think I would have too. She was a tremendously wonderful person, and I am glad you got to love her so well during the time you had her.
Hugs,
LB

Ritsumei said...

I feel for your loss! It sounds like Gram is the kind of woman I want to be when I grow up. I'm sure she's still watching over your family from the other side.

mere said...

Oh Dy. I had no idea...I'm so sorry for your loss.

She was a really neat lady and a great role model.

You are all in my thoughts and prayers.

mere

Kathyb1960 said...

OH NO! I am so sorry! I was looking forward to her turning 100, too, but think of the celebration she is doing in Heaven w/ Jesus! WOO WOO! But, I know you guys will still miss her very much. I loved reading about her and she was so cute.

I will keep ya'll in my prayers. Maybe you can have a small party to celebrate her life!

God bless you all!

Kathy

Kathyb1960 said...

I also wanted to ask if you guys are OK. I know you live in N. Alabama & that's where the bad storms are, PLUS I heard there were tornado warnings so just wanted to check to see if you guys were OK. Praying for your safety, too!

Jules said...

Dy, I'm so sorry. I remember your past posts about her and how much your love for her showed through your words.

I will be praying for you and your family as you take the time to cherish her memory and remember her life.

{{{hugs}}}

Rebel said...

I'm so sorry for your loss. She sounds like a fascinating woman.

Konkadoo said...

I'm so sorry for your loss. She sounded amazing.

Melora said...

I'm sorry for your loss. She sounds wonderful.

L said...

Sorry to hear the news, Dy. You are all very fortunate to have had a Gram like that touch your lives.

Anonymous said...

She was a woman of strength, honor, and love, and I know you all will miss her so...
My thoughts and prayers are with you guys during this tough time of grieving. The laughter and energy that children have, can bring such healing during these tough times, I have found.
hugs.
~dawn

Meliss said...

Thanks for fighting for the words to describe the person you love. I'm very sorry for your loss.

Michele said...

Dy - I know, from your posts, how much Gram meant to you and yours. My condolences to you.

Michele

Anonymous said...

So sorry about your time of sadness. I enjoyed all the times you included your gram in your posts. This post was great and honored her so much. Blessings.

Anonymous said...

Oh, Dy. I am so sorry for you and your families loss, but so grateful you had the wonderful loving experience that a Grandmother can be, and your Gram clearly was. It was delightful to revisit the Gram postings and enjoy the pictures.

Thanks for sharing.

Pamela