Things have been quiet around here lately. I've been in a pensive mood and, adding to that, my grandmother passed away night before last, not unexpectedly, but more quickly then we figured on. And, sadly, she lived in Florida, all the way on the other side of the country and so it looks like I won't be able to go to her funeral. The combination of small children and expensive last-minute travel are conspiring to keep me here. And so I have been doing my best to remember her with affection, but honestly.
My grandmother and I had difficulties when I was a child. She was not overly fond of my mother and also was horrified at my weight (I was a heavy child. Not record-breaking or anything, but plus-sized children -or anyone really- were a horror to her) She often said mean and hurtful things to me about it or just in general. BUT, she also was always on hand for the important events, graduations, confirmation, weddings, funerals. One of my best summers was one where she took my cousin and I across the country on an extended car vacation to amusement parks and to family (and every Holidome in our path!) I remember her horror when I put ketchup on my poached eggs. That trip was also my first exposure to both Dogpatch U.S.A (now defunct) and biscuits and gravy (a love I may never outgrow)
When I was an adult, she came to a better relationship with my mother before my mom died and later also with me. I knitted her a shawl a couple of years ago to have with her in the nursing home after her stroke. She made sure Z (and then Z&B later) got a Hess Gasoline truck every year.
I loved hearing her tell about her time in the military, hopping transport planes when she and her friend could, to see places, and her stories about my grandfather who I don't remember at all, and about her working hard as a waitress to help ends meet when a NYC cop's salary wasn't enough to raise 6 kids on. Getting glimpses into her life as a mother and a young woman, which, in retrospect were far too infrequent. Remembering her calling herself Kate when she was pointing out something she missed or did wrong. And packages every Christmas from Mrs CLaws. I always wondered why she misspelled it. Until I got it.
I regret that she never met B and only knew Z from a few visits. I am glad that I made sure to send an email thank you with photos from this year's Hess truck arrival so she could see the joy the boys had in her gift. I'm glad I made sure to talk to her on her birthday this year even though talking on the phone is so difficult for me. It was good to hear her voice and she seemed very glad to hear mine.
So last night, in honor of my grandmother, I toasted her with a glass of cream sherry and memories of her strength and love. Goodbye Grandma. You were a tough lady and, although you weren't overt about it, a loving one as well. I'll miss you.