Saturday, September 10, 2011

In Memory Of My Two Grandmothers

My two grandmothers are on my mind today.  I have no specific reason for them to be on my mind at this particular time,  but their presence has been hovering over me like a cloud.  I didn't know my grandfathers.  My paternal grandfather died when my father was young and my maternal grandfather passed away when I was very small. I only have have a few fuzzy memories of him.

Both of my grandmothers were strong women but they were very different people.  My paternal grandmother did whatever job she had to in order to keep her family fed after grandpa passed. I learned to enjoy cooking and  how to mend clothes from her.  Grandma was strong, smart, creative, and her family was everything to her.  I loved to hear her tell me about how she and my grandfather met.  He was a salesman and she was a school teacher in a small school house.  She was living in the South West and he lived on the East Coast but he would make a detour  with each business trip so he could court her.  At the end of her day, as she dismissed her students, she would see him sitting on a horse at the top of the hill waiting for her.  She told me the story several times and each time I found it to be very romantic.  Grandma said he was the love of her life and she never remarried after he passed. From Grandma G I learned to value the simple things in life, appreciate tradition, love history,  value the spiritual side, and   that the people in our life is what is most important.

My maternal grandmother was a different person altogether but  I thought she was amazing.  Grandmother was a very intelligent woman who was full of energy.  She had a career as a nurse, loved to do needlework, paint, and cook.  Grandma taught me not to be a slave to a recipe. When she was 70 she taught me to dance.  I loved her telling on how she met my grandfather.  Grandpa was in the Navy and one day, while visiting a friend at the hospital, he saw grandma.   He went out of his way to try and catch her attentions but she would just brush him off.  Consistent flirting and invitations to go out where ignored or declined quite abruptly.  As weeks passed, she continued to turn him down and, being grandma, I imagine she left no room for negotiation. He was persistent.  Grandma told me that grandfather "had a reputation as a ladies man"  and he was a terrible flirt. She laughingly told me once that "He was so full of himself.'"   However, grandfather persisted and each day when she got off duty she would walk out of the hospital to find him waiting for her  at the base of the hospital steps so he could walk her to her bus. After several weeks she finally agreed to a group outing, but it was to  include her friends. I asked her once what changed her mind.  She smiled and said "He was so polite and tried so hard to impress me that I took a second look and realized he really was a good man. When I realized how much I enjoyed his company he just started to grow on me."   From Grandma H I learned not to get stuck in a comfort zone and don't  judge others because no one is perfect, don't take myself too seriously but value who I am, always look for ways to improve myself, never stop learning, and the most important lesson I learned from her is that actions speak louder than words.


 From each woman I gained two different life perspectives.   I feel so sorry for children caught up in family disputes.  The kids who are segregated from one side of their family lose the opportunity to gain  that broader perspective and never know part of their heritage.  I am grateful  for both of my grandmothers and feel blessed because of their differences. Each gave me wonderful memories. Growing up, I viewed one as stability and the other as adventure but the commonality is that they were strong women with good values.  More important, I  knew that either of them would each be there for me if I needed them.

It is unfortunate that some people can't accept any view except their own.  If someone lives their life differently from us, that doesn't necessarily make it bad. It only makes it different.  Yet there are those who insist that their way  is the only way.

They say life is art.  When I hear this  I think of how a canvas painting is comprised of a variety of colors and shapes.  Some paintings appear to change their view depending on the light or the viewing angle, almost as though they were two dimensional.   I think that people who  refuse to open their eyes and their hearts to view the world outside of their own existence live their lives in a one dimensional reality.


Grandma G was more of a black and white thinker but when grandpa died in era when women were not welcomed in the work force.  Her outlook and her strength is why she and her children survived.    Grandma H used to tell me the story of the blind men and the elephant.  It was a favorite that I never tired of hearing but, as an adult, I recognize it came with a lesson I was meant to learn:

The Blind Men and The Elephant.

 A king has the blind men brought to the palace, and they are asked to describe
 an elephant.  Using their hands the blind men felt the elephant.  When each blind man had felt a part of the elephant, the king went to  them and said to each: 'Well, blind man, describe the elephant to me."

Each man gives a different description.One man felt the head says the elephant is like a pot. Another who felt the leg asserts that an elephant is like a tree. Yet another who felt the trunk asserted that an elephant is like a snake and the descriptions continued with each blind man describing the elephant based on what part of the elephant's body he touched.

The men cannot agree with one another and were arguing heatedly over the question of whose description is accurate. The King said "You are all correct and you are all wrong.  Each of you only see one part of the elephant  yet you rant in complete ignorance because one cannot describe the whole until one has learned the total of it's parts

These  blind men are like some people who are blind and ignorant to any views except their own. Due to their ignorance they argue and fight because, instead of truly seeing the world before them,  each insisted on maintaining his own reality.

Two very different, but  incredible, women who I am blessed to call Grandma taught me to step back and understand that life is like abstract art.  It doesn't doesn't care about coloring inside of the lines.  Thank you to my grandmothers and to my parents  who taught me that common interests may get the conversation started but it is our differences that make life interesting.


Sunday, September 4, 2011

In Honor of Friends

Growing up on a farm we learn to accept that death is inevitable, it is the suffering that should be unnecessary.  This is why I think that Cancer is such an awful disease. It  leaves one with out dignity, no guarantee of survival, and it causes so much suffering for both the victim and their families.  Cancer took someone from us recently.  She was too young to die and it is painful to watch her two small children lose their mother. 

 My friends and I make a point of getting together on a regular basis. Sometimes we do something fun and sometimes it is just a coffee date at someones house.  It isn't the activity that counts, it is the company we keep. In July our gathering was about hats. One of the girls had a hat party because someone we knew was battling cancer.  So in July everyone came to the girls outing with a hat or a scarf for our friend to wear when she when she loses her hair.  It was a symbol of support so she can look at those hats and remember how much we care about her. 

August was a difficult month for scheduling an outing. School was starting, summer was ending, some were taking vacations, I had taken on a new project at work which meant long hours in addition to a schedule that was already full so no outing was scheduled.  Around the 20th of August one of the girls we knew took a turn for the worst and went in the hospital.  On the 25th her family said Hospice was called in. They were only giving her only few days to live.  Cell phones and email were on fire with friends providing updates and trying to schedule help as needed.  The last Friday of August she passed away.

On Monday morning one of the girls sent out an email that simply said "We need to get together."  The following night, on August 30,  an amazing thing happened.  Within twenty four hours, we were all sitting at a restaurant table enjoying appetizers and the friendship we all share.  It was a somber night but the companionship was like a salve on an open wound.

"A wake is a time of sadness, but also a time to bond with family, to remember the deceased fondly, and to take comfort in the company of loved ones. Traditional Celtic wakes were overnight affairs, but this custom is increasingly less common" Wickipedia





As we all prepared to leave, one of the ladies said " We needed this"   We were a group of middle aged women in business attire that stood in the parking lot hugging each other. We did need that time together and immediately began talking about the next outing.

Treasure your family and friends.  Life is short so make time for those who are important because death is a harsh reminder that life offers us no guarantees.