what I spent all day yesterday on
Dec. 31st, 2010 09:16 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7One of the overriding characteristics of the women of this family is that we don't mess around. If something has to be done, we'll do it. If an obstacle can't be climbed, we'll go through it. We're not mean, we're not cold or cruel, we just don't have time to make a big fuss. The world is full of marvelous and wonderful things, and we know that if you waste too much time being indirect and subtle and not wanting to look foolish, you'll miss out. But if you get out there and do it, you can make great things happen.
Grandma was a wise woman, well-educated, modest, caring, and friendly. But she was also very practical. And that feature, more than any others, stands out in our minds as we think back upon her. She was a great role model to us, and helped us understand that there's no sense being mean, but you can't waste a whole lot of time worrying what people are going to think about you. Why make a fuss when you can just come up with a different way to solve the problem, instead?
Grandma was never much moved by the shallow constraints of fads, or expectations. She did what she felt she had to do, when the time was right. She was college-educated, at a time when that was rare. She traveled the world, even though she was terrible at foreign languages (her sole phrase of Chinese, when she toured the Great Wall, was "Where is the restroom?"), even though she had two bad knees (both badly damaged in a skiing accident in her twenties).
She was an important early influence on us kids. She was our first sleepover: each of us, individually, when we reached the correct age (we couldn't have been more than four), spent a night by ourselves with Grandma at her house, and slept in her guest-bed, with the sounds of traffic outside the window (very strange for us country mice), and ate breakfast, which was different from how Mom cooked it, and drank mixed cranberry and orange juice, which we never had at home, from a glass that was different from the glasses at home. It was a little rite of passage for each of us: our first time away from our mother by ourselves, as an individual instead of "one of the kids", and it was our first inkling that not everyone in the world lived precisely as we did in our household. The photos on the wall of her stairwell showed some strangers and some familiar faces, but all distorted through the lens of time-- our mother, as a child, what a strange thought! Our great-grandmother, as a young woman! It was our first glimmer of understanding of history-- our own, and that around us.
She had a little rug with a dragon on it, that had come from China; we all remember sitting on it. Sometimes we watched slideshows of her trips around the world. Mom told stories of their great excursions when she was a child-- a big road trip across the country with a tent trailer with moose antlers on it, hikes up the Adirondack mountains, innumerable camping trips. We didn't travel as much when we ourselves were kids, but in the glowing dark with the whirring hum of the slide projector, we saw Australia and New Zealand, we saw the Berlin Wall, we saw England and Scotland, we saw China, and we learned about possibility and perspective.
Grandma's fierce independence was often wearing to her children-- Mom sometimes complained of never being able to catch her at home after she retired, because she had so many places to go, people to see, things to do. But her independence was what made her who she was, even as her body paid the toll for her youthful athleticism. Even stuck using a walker she still was determined to get where she needed to go.
And so, practical as our Grandmother, we'll try not to cry too much to see her gone. She's free now, and can move about as she needs to. We didn't need her anymore, and she has things to do, places to go, people to see, and that old body, those worn-out knees, that arthritis, that osteoporosis, was only holding her back. I'm pretty sure she's already filled up her schedule with new things to do. For one thing, at 91, many of her friends are already there waiting for her. She must be very busy, visiting.
We'll miss you, Gram, but we won't let it slow us down. There are just too many wonderful things to see and too much important work to get done. But we'll think of you while we do it, and how you taught us.
Love,
Your Granddaughters
Grandma was a wise woman, well-educated, modest, caring, and friendly. But she was also very practical. And that feature, more than any others, stands out in our minds as we think back upon her. She was a great role model to us, and helped us understand that there's no sense being mean, but you can't waste a whole lot of time worrying what people are going to think about you. Why make a fuss when you can just come up with a different way to solve the problem, instead?
Grandma was never much moved by the shallow constraints of fads, or expectations. She did what she felt she had to do, when the time was right. She was college-educated, at a time when that was rare. She traveled the world, even though she was terrible at foreign languages (her sole phrase of Chinese, when she toured the Great Wall, was "Where is the restroom?"), even though she had two bad knees (both badly damaged in a skiing accident in her twenties).
She was an important early influence on us kids. She was our first sleepover: each of us, individually, when we reached the correct age (we couldn't have been more than four), spent a night by ourselves with Grandma at her house, and slept in her guest-bed, with the sounds of traffic outside the window (very strange for us country mice), and ate breakfast, which was different from how Mom cooked it, and drank mixed cranberry and orange juice, which we never had at home, from a glass that was different from the glasses at home. It was a little rite of passage for each of us: our first time away from our mother by ourselves, as an individual instead of "one of the kids", and it was our first inkling that not everyone in the world lived precisely as we did in our household. The photos on the wall of her stairwell showed some strangers and some familiar faces, but all distorted through the lens of time-- our mother, as a child, what a strange thought! Our great-grandmother, as a young woman! It was our first glimmer of understanding of history-- our own, and that around us.
She had a little rug with a dragon on it, that had come from China; we all remember sitting on it. Sometimes we watched slideshows of her trips around the world. Mom told stories of their great excursions when she was a child-- a big road trip across the country with a tent trailer with moose antlers on it, hikes up the Adirondack mountains, innumerable camping trips. We didn't travel as much when we ourselves were kids, but in the glowing dark with the whirring hum of the slide projector, we saw Australia and New Zealand, we saw the Berlin Wall, we saw England and Scotland, we saw China, and we learned about possibility and perspective.
Grandma's fierce independence was often wearing to her children-- Mom sometimes complained of never being able to catch her at home after she retired, because she had so many places to go, people to see, things to do. But her independence was what made her who she was, even as her body paid the toll for her youthful athleticism. Even stuck using a walker she still was determined to get where she needed to go.
And so, practical as our Grandmother, we'll try not to cry too much to see her gone. She's free now, and can move about as she needs to. We didn't need her anymore, and she has things to do, places to go, people to see, and that old body, those worn-out knees, that arthritis, that osteoporosis, was only holding her back. I'm pretty sure she's already filled up her schedule with new things to do. For one thing, at 91, many of her friends are already there waiting for her. She must be very busy, visiting.
We'll miss you, Gram, but we won't let it slow us down. There are just too many wonderful things to see and too much important work to get done. But we'll think of you while we do it, and how you taught us.
Love,
Your Granddaughters
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Date: 2010-12-31 02:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-12-31 03:00 pm (UTC)Thank you for sharing this with us. Reminds us to get out there and embrace life!
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Date: 2010-12-31 03:04 pm (UTC)Really lovely Bridget. I like her, she had spirit and guts; both things i value in a Lady.
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Date: 2010-12-31 03:27 pm (UTC)