Remembering my Grandmother

Its hard to imagine a world without my Grandmama in it.
She became Grandmama not only to me, and my cousins, but to anyone who entered her home, welcoming all with open arms and a cup of re-warmed coffee.

She remembered birthdays, holidays, and anniversaries with cards and notes typed on her typewriter, and when she became too tired to type with arthritis disfiguring her hands, she chose cards with a message that she would have typed, and sent those instead with a carefully penned signature “Love, Grandmama and Granddaddy”

She was one of the wealthiest people I have ever known, if you count wealth by the amount of love in her life. Somehow, she kept track of every child, husband or wife, grandchild and their spouses, and great-grandchildren – her clan growing from 4 to… how many now? I don’t even know! My thirteen cousins and I grew up in an environment I knew as “normal” although as I have grown older and seen how other families function, I know now that it wasn’t normal to have 30-some people in a tiny house, having the time of their lives every Christmas and Thanksgiving. That wasn’t “normal” but it was heaven.

My grandmother taught us lessons growing up – not so much in a verbal way, but by her example. She taught us about waste – keeping things that we might need someday in the future: from junk mail, to loose screws, to film negatives, to letters. She taught us to never underestimate the amount of non-perishable food items and plastic ware one might need at any given time. I recall one Christmas, my cousins and I were peering in one of her closets and discovered dozens of rolls of tin foil and plastic wrap stashed in the top. When we laughingly confronted Grandmama about that, she said “It was on sale. You don’t know when you might need it!”
I was talking to Ericka Travis, who couldn’t be here today, and we were talking about memories of my grandmother. Ericka was her great-niece and they had a strong bond that didn’t fade no matter how many miles and oceans separated them. Ericka said “One thing I remember best about your grandmother is that she never rushed. She taught me a lot about the value of time, and the value of taking your time. She was never in a hurry – she always savored life.” And that is true. She savored every bite of every 2 hour meal. If you went to her house and any time of day in the past decade, you would probably have found her sitting at the kitchen table, sorting through mail and finishing whatever meal had come previous to that time.

My Grandmama and Grandaddy’s house was a place that everyone wanted to come. As kids, we took turns staying with them, and we would sit at the dining table, eating flower cookies and playing memory with her. She was good at memory. I think she let us win a few times though, because otherwise we wouldn’t have wanted to keep playing!

My Grandmama taught me some very important lessons about family, love and commitment.

One lesson she taught me through her example was of how to accept love. There are many people who show others how to love, but accepting love is something that can be even more challenging. My Grandmama gracefully accepted the love my Granddaddy poured on her every day for 69 years. She smiled her half smile, and lovingly scolded him when he was too flirtacious, and patted his hand, loving him back with every ounce of her being for the love he gave her. When she smiled about some little thing they did together during their marriage, I saw her grow thirty years younger and I knew in our hearts we never grow old.

My Grandmama taught me how to love, and that happily ever after happens one day at a time. She loved selflessly and plodded on through hard times and good ones, loving him (and us) every day with her whole heart.
A few weeks before she passed, I was at her house before Christmas. It was one of the few times I was ever at her house in my life without having Grandaddy nearby as well. I sat in his chair after dinner, and talked to her about love. I asked her the secret to marriage of 69 years, and how to make love last, and I asked her if they two were still in love. Something happens as you get older, and fairy tales seem further from the truth, and true love that lasts seems to be a mystery that is impossible to unlock under layers of cynicism and life experience. I said “Grandmama, what is the secret? Are you still in love, or is it just easier to be together than not? How do you do it all these years?”

She took her time, looked at me with bright eyes, smiled her half smile and said “Well, yes, Joni. We’re still in love. Every night before we go to bed, we kiss each other good night. That has happened almost every night for 70 years. Marriage is hard, you’re right. But it lasts through patience and fortitude. That’s how you make love last: patience and fortitude.”

I thought about that a lot in the weeks after, and especially when she passed. Fortitude was a word I had always associated with strength, but I wasn’t sure I had ever looked up the definition. When I looked up the definition, it could have had my grandmother’s picture printed next to it:
The American Heritage Dictionary describes fortitude as “the strength of mind that allows one to endure pain or adversity with courage.” For all my Grandmama’s life, she greeted every challenge that came her way with strength of mind. She didn’t complain and dwell on things that happened to her that were difficult or hard to bear with fear, she didn’t crumble in defeat or self-pity. She just squared her shoulders and taught us all that strong things come in small packages. Even in the end, she was not afraid or full of sadness, she just walked forward resolutely to her next phase.

My Grandmama never boarded a plane in her 88 years of life. She never felt a reason to fly, and she said that if God meant her to fly around the sky, he could have given her wings. Since he didn’t, she was perfectly fine on the ground. On January 20th, 2011, God finally gave her soul wings to fly up to be with him. I hope she had a good first flight. I’m sure she knows, but I want to say it anyway, if she’s listening:

Grandmama, we love you. We miss you, and you taught us so much in life. We are all better people because of you. And I am going to try to live my life with fortitude.