My grandmother

I know I haven't posted of late. I have one story to pass on but I'll do that tomorrow.

My grandmother died last Friday afternoon. I haven't said anything because, quite frankly, I don't know what to say.

My sis made a good start here.

Grandma was a good woman. She really and truly was. But those who knew her don't need to hear me say that. They knew it. She was sweet but with a stubborn streak. She was always good to me and my family.

Sometimes I found her tough to connect with. I found it very difficult for her to slow down and have a serious discussion sometimes. But, man, could she talk. You could sit her down with a group of adolescent girls at a slumber party and after a while, they would probably say to each other “Man, can she, like, talk or what?”

Some memories I'll always carry:

-Years ago, when I was in my teens, I think, we were visiting her at her old house and we brought our dog Laddie. Laddie was awesome. Built like a broad-chested dachsund with doberman markings. And he loved to chase squirrels and chipmunks. One time, he saw a chipmunk in Grandma's backyard and chased it up a waterspout. This really struck Grandma’s fancy. She proceeded to tell us the story later; again…and again…and again…and again. Every time she would visit us, we’d hear her tell us that story like it was the first time she told it. It became a running joke among us. “Grandma’s telling the story about the chipmunk and Laddie…again.” She actually had a few stories like this, including the one about my Uncle Dennis giving the finger to a policeman while riding on the schoolbus.

-About 2 or 3 years ago, my last job sent me up to the Youngstown, Ohio area, which is right across the border from Pennsylvania and Grandma. I stayed an extra night up there with a friend so I could take Grandma out to breakfast the next morning. I picked her up around 8 AM and we went to the Perkins in Greenville. I’ve always been fascinated with WWII history and really enjoy reading about it. My grandfather fought in WWII in Europe, was captured by the Germans and in a German POW camp for a while. I asked Grandma about it. What it was like to be young, married and not know if her husband was alive or dead for as long as 2 or 3 months. It was the first conversation of real depth I had with her. She talked about the experience of hearing he was missing in action, worrying he was dead for months and then getting word that he was a POW. I saw a side of her she didn’t seem to reveal too often. She spoke deeply from the heart and talked about it like it was the day before. Her eyes looked downward as she talked about missing him and her eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning when talking about seeing him when he came home. How incredible, in both good and bad ways, must an experience be for it to be seared in her memory almost 60 years later. This is one of the three memories I have of her that I know I will carry forever.

-The second of those memories is my sister’s wedding, Labor Day weekend of 2002. It was at the reception afterward. Heather and Amy had picked out an AWESOME play list for the DJ to play. Just great music. In fact, if you still have that list, Amy and Heather, I want it for my wedding…should I ever give in and get married. Anyway, Grandma TORE UP the dance floor. It was like watching clips of Michael Jordan in his prime on Sportscenter. All we needed was Craig Kilborn saying “You can’t stop her. You can only hope to contain her.” She’d grab any guy to go out on that dance floor. Once he was tired, she grabbed the next guy. Apparently, this was another side of Grandma she didn’t reveal too often!

-Mom, Dad, Amy, Heather and I all were in Ohio together last Christmas. We all knew Grandma was deteriorating so we decided we would go see her as a family. We also knew it was probably the last time we’d see her all together. She was doing better than I expected. Able to hobble around on a cane, all she really needed help with was getting up into the van we’d rented for the trip. It was a good time…the 6 of us together. And she treasured it. It was obvious. Dad had said she was always cold at her nursing home. So I bought her an Air Force sweatshirt for her to wear. She’d mothered a Soldier (uncle Dick) and an Airman (Dad). And she had grand-mothered another Soldier (my cousin Kevin) and an Airman (me). I felt a pride in giving her that sweatshirt. When we left, grandma cried. I’d never seen her cry before in my 29 years. She would laugh and joke around. She would get angry and raise her voice (though very rarely). But I’d never seen her cry. The past 2 years she was forced to face her own mortality. And it scared her. I think she was worried if we’d ever all be together like that again. That was the last time the 6 of us were together.

That is the 3rd of the 3 memories I will always carry.

I knew there was a high chance of her passing while I was overseas. I also knew there was little chance of me making it back for her viewing and funeral. And I didn’t. It was tough. Probably not as tough as actually being there. Being here allowed me to use my defense method of not really facing it…until now. As I type this, I think of one of the two women who gave birth to my family. And she is gone. And my eyes are welling up, here at work.

When I get home, I plan on taking a couple of days to drive up to Greeneville, PA to pay my last respects.

Grandma, you are a good woman and I’ll miss you…until we meet again.