We had to pack up the last of my Gram's old apartment, another chapter in the book of life, closed. I got to do it all by myself, well, I volunteered to help my dad out since he's a little too stressed lately. I honestly thought I would be sad, thinking that memories with my Gram will soon be gone, but I wasn't. I thought that I would go crazy in the silence since I forgot a radio and there is none there since they are at my Gram's new digs. I danced around a celebrated a life well lived by singing "Trading my Sorrows".
Most of the stuff we wanted was already taken, this was the last of it. Dessert glasses that had numerous scoops of ice cream dished to and eaten out of. Mirrored trays of perfume. Things with no monetary value, but who can put a price on the things that make you who you are.
Packing her things I looked through books that had newspaper articles in them, things that were important at the time. I found myself finding things and wanting to hold on to them, although they would end up in a box because they really don't have any use. I think a couple of times I heard my dad's voice (he wasn't there) say "what are you going to do with that? And to the donation pile it went.
I am different from my dad because I took my time looking through books that I knew he'd want if he would just be patient. He's having a hard time with this, this is his mother who loved him like no one else, who fought for him when no one else would. She's a memory of a life well lived.
I said before that I am lucky because I have the most memories with her. I found glasses with silver leaves on them that were only used for special occasions. I remember them well, I wasn't allowed to use them, but I remember my g-pa using them to make "hi-balls", whatever that is.
I looked through photo albums of pictures of our family -of the little ones- my gram's eyes lit up with each birth of the children. Looking at each picture and her captions made my heart sing.
The one thing that made me cry was the opening of the "family bible". I was never used except to write the family tree in it. No marks in the binding, no scribbles in the margins, no underlined or highlighted passages. I found that so odd (mine looks like a little kid got hold of it). My Gram loved Jesus, He was in her heart and maybe it's because she was Catholic (I never opened my bible before I changed denominations). I found myself crying because even though He was in her heart, she never read His words. That was so sad.
My Gram is not the same Gram as I remember. I am so thankful for her love and I am so thankful for a life well lived.
Most of the stuff we wanted was already taken, this was the last of it. Dessert glasses that had numerous scoops of ice cream dished to and eaten out of. Mirrored trays of perfume. Things with no monetary value, but who can put a price on the things that make you who you are.
Packing her things I looked through books that had newspaper articles in them, things that were important at the time. I found myself finding things and wanting to hold on to them, although they would end up in a box because they really don't have any use. I think a couple of times I heard my dad's voice (he wasn't there) say "what are you going to do with that? And to the donation pile it went.
I am different from my dad because I took my time looking through books that I knew he'd want if he would just be patient. He's having a hard time with this, this is his mother who loved him like no one else, who fought for him when no one else would. She's a memory of a life well lived.
I said before that I am lucky because I have the most memories with her. I found glasses with silver leaves on them that were only used for special occasions. I remember them well, I wasn't allowed to use them, but I remember my g-pa using them to make "hi-balls", whatever that is.
I looked through photo albums of pictures of our family -of the little ones- my gram's eyes lit up with each birth of the children. Looking at each picture and her captions made my heart sing.
The one thing that made me cry was the opening of the "family bible". I was never used except to write the family tree in it. No marks in the binding, no scribbles in the margins, no underlined or highlighted passages. I found that so odd (mine looks like a little kid got hold of it). My Gram loved Jesus, He was in her heart and maybe it's because she was Catholic (I never opened my bible before I changed denominations). I found myself crying because even though He was in her heart, she never read His words. That was so sad.
My Gram is not the same Gram as I remember. I am so thankful for her love and I am so thankful for a life well lived.
Comments
A life well lived and a life appreciated by a son and granddaughter who loved her. How blessed to have a granddaughter that took the time to appreciate even the little things that add up to her lifetime. We should all be so blessed.
ps...referring to and earlier post...you haven't ruined your daughter...she's in God's hands...and He does all things well! :)