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Very early this past Wednesday morning, my grandfather died. I got up pretty early, and my mom told me. It was so early that I was not fully operational in the arena of consciousness, so it hit me with surprising force. There were no defenses up against it, and I was glad. I actually felt a small void, a loss, a little human-sized emptiness. It was the first time I can remember feeling that. I haven't lost very many people close to me, and so I always wonder what grief is like. I'm glad I can feel it now, even in that small way. It's easy to take feeling for granted, but I've lived a lot of my life walled away and callous, so I know I'm blessed to be able to feel at all.
So Wednesday I went to work as usual and didn't mention it to anyone until I was taking a break. A coworker spoke about his grandfather, that he needed to visit him more often, and I shared with him that my Granddaddy had died early that morning. He asked, "What did he leave you?" I interpreted it materially, so I laughed and said probably nothing. He reiterated the question; I got it, and answered immediately with a big smile: "Laughter!" We chatted a few minutes about it at the Earth Fare bar and finished with a kombucha toast to life, laughter, and love (who needs beer when you have kombucha?).
YES! My Granddaddy left me laughter. He always smiled, always laughed. What a blessing! He had an immeasurable wealth of stories to tell at anytime. He loved to talk, despite a speech impediment he acquired from a stroke earlier in his life. And we loved to listen. He was an easygoing Mississippi native, having grown up in the heat of the Deep South amidst pines & pecan trees. He would only eat PET brand Butter Pecan ice cream: he said they were the only company who didn't use stale pecans. If you wanted to get him a good gift, pecans were a good bet. Or pecan cookies. Pecan logs. The man loved pecans. I must have inherited that from him.
Tonight was the receiving of friends at the funeral home. Many people came, even family from Mississippi and Kentucky, and honestly... it was fun! There was a lot of laughter. I never know, going into this sort of thing, what it's gonna be like. Will I cry? Will there be heaviness there? The answers tonight were no and no. (Tomorrow may be different.) We were remembering him, laughing, crying, and the overall energy was enormously positive. The life he led was enormously positive. He went at a great time without too much suffering and lived a very full 91 years. We are so blessed by that.
The whole thing's really shifting me in an awesome, invigorating, galvanizing way. This has never happened to me before. The experiences tonight really have opened me to see the impact of a life well lived, seasoned with much laughter and very little worry. And tonight I felt like I received this blessing of laughter, passed on from grandfather to granddaughter, like it's mine to carry now. Only it is truly a burden that is light, a yoke that is easy. I am rich!
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Friday, November 12, 2010
Sunday, November 29, 2009
Road trip! Part 7: Family
The next stop on our tour d'America was Meridian, MS, where a lot of my family comes from. They have the best accents and pecans in Mississippi, and I can really just sit and listen to Aunt Nancy talk and be pretty content. There's just something about the way she says, "Honey," with her deep voice. Wow.
And Aunt Nancy loves fried catfish. (I don't think you're allowed to live in Mississippi if you don't like fried catfish.) Especially from Ezell's Fish Camp, which is just across the border in Alabama, right on the river. It's a little off the beaten path, so once you turn off the main road, it's all cotton fields and then a little open place with a restuarant. It's easy to sweet talk her into going over there for lunch, and I was happy to hop in the driver's seat once again if it meant catfish. Yes ma'am!
Well it was worth it! Indeed. The dining room was big and homey and overlooked the river. We had some fried pickles to start. Those are so funny! And tasty. We all got fried catfish with tartar sauce and coleslaw and hushpuppies and maybe even some fried okra (my mouth is watering too), and it was just a feast, really. I mean, how do they expect you to eat all that food they bring you? But I got to listen to her accent the whole time! That is really on my top ten list of favorite things, my Aunt Nancy's accent.
Now Aunt Nancy has a knack for grabbing the bill before anyone else can, but Aunt Judy and I were prepared. Instead of asking for the check, which ultimately just causes a hullabaloo, we slipped the waitress a card and told her to take care of it. Then we found out how sneaky Nancy really is, because long before we'd gotten any of our food, she excused herself to the ladies room and gave the waitress her card. Hmph! Now we know.
This brings me to my favorite part of the story. We were at the front getting ready to go- I forget what they were doing- but I saw those cotton fields, and having just gotten off a farm myself, I was mighty interested in them. Especially since I'd never picked cotton before. We inquired, and they gave me the go ahead and a plastic grocery bag, and I was off! As I headed into the fields, two young men had just come back from the fair where they'd been selling catfish, and now they were unloading the truck. They were a little confused at what I was doing. I sauntered on past 'em. I had a goal.
Cotton is nice and fluffy, although I could see how picking it for a living could tear your hands up. The bolls are really soft, and the stems and such are really prickly- totally opposite textures. And there were loads of little bits of the prickly plant on the white fluff! I tried to clean them up as I picked, and that was just too much to do when you're picking for speed. But as an adventure, it was really nice. I filled up that whole bag with cotton! It took some doing, but I did it. And then I sauntered on back with my prize. One of the guys unloading the truck was black, and he really did not know what to do with a little white girl pickin cotton. He kept looking over at me, like he was making sure it was really happening. I really enjoyed the cultural flip: black man working in a restaurant; white girl picking some cotton. It was worth it in every aspect. Even having to eat all that catfish.
And Aunt Nancy loves fried catfish. (I don't think you're allowed to live in Mississippi if you don't like fried catfish.) Especially from Ezell's Fish Camp, which is just across the border in Alabama, right on the river. It's a little off the beaten path, so once you turn off the main road, it's all cotton fields and then a little open place with a restuarant. It's easy to sweet talk her into going over there for lunch, and I was happy to hop in the driver's seat once again if it meant catfish. Yes ma'am!
Well it was worth it! Indeed. The dining room was big and homey and overlooked the river. We had some fried pickles to start. Those are so funny! And tasty. We all got fried catfish with tartar sauce and coleslaw and hushpuppies and maybe even some fried okra (my mouth is watering too), and it was just a feast, really. I mean, how do they expect you to eat all that food they bring you? But I got to listen to her accent the whole time! That is really on my top ten list of favorite things, my Aunt Nancy's accent.
Now Aunt Nancy has a knack for grabbing the bill before anyone else can, but Aunt Judy and I were prepared. Instead of asking for the check, which ultimately just causes a hullabaloo, we slipped the waitress a card and told her to take care of it. Then we found out how sneaky Nancy really is, because long before we'd gotten any of our food, she excused herself to the ladies room and gave the waitress her card. Hmph! Now we know.
This brings me to my favorite part of the story. We were at the front getting ready to go- I forget what they were doing- but I saw those cotton fields, and having just gotten off a farm myself, I was mighty interested in them. Especially since I'd never picked cotton before. We inquired, and they gave me the go ahead and a plastic grocery bag, and I was off! As I headed into the fields, two young men had just come back from the fair where they'd been selling catfish, and now they were unloading the truck. They were a little confused at what I was doing. I sauntered on past 'em. I had a goal.
Cotton is nice and fluffy, although I could see how picking it for a living could tear your hands up. The bolls are really soft, and the stems and such are really prickly- totally opposite textures. And there were loads of little bits of the prickly plant on the white fluff! I tried to clean them up as I picked, and that was just too much to do when you're picking for speed. But as an adventure, it was really nice. I filled up that whole bag with cotton! It took some doing, but I did it. And then I sauntered on back with my prize. One of the guys unloading the truck was black, and he really did not know what to do with a little white girl pickin cotton. He kept looking over at me, like he was making sure it was really happening. I really enjoyed the cultural flip: black man working in a restaurant; white girl picking some cotton. It was worth it in every aspect. Even having to eat all that catfish.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Road trip! Part 6: About-face
This is it: we're in Louisiana. The whole trip, the second most important thing to me was being in New Orleans. The chemistry that I have with that city is impeccable. I love it. I love the music, the chaos, the street people, the boldness. When I am in New Orleans, there is a wildness in me that is awakened, and I know that I belong there. I have that precise brand of madness, and it is wonderful. Only in New Orleans...
And I'm not going there. Aunt Judy & I are in Lake Charles, Louisiana, and tomorrow we will travel to Meridian, Mississippi to visit family on our way back to our respective homes.
"WHY??!!!," you ask. Well, it's a new thing for me. Let me explain it to you: I've run out of money. My budget is busted. Sure, I have a decent amount of money in my bank account, but it's almost all spoken for. And here's the change: I've looked at it, owned it, and am responding to it. Instead of spending some of my mortgage money and assuming I'll have more cash in time to pay the bills, I'm going to be responsive to my own actual needs... which includes some self respect.
And I'm not even heartbroken! Yes, I will miss New Orleans. Yes, I really think I could live there. Yes, I've always run from the reality of my finances, especially when they're not what I want them to be. But here comes baby step number one in the right direction: no more running; instead, an about face. Ya gotta start somewhere.
It will be great to see family I haven't seen in years. I have a cousin, Brooke, who's recently taken up dancing. The last time I saw her she was too young to talk. David, her father, is a hunter and has 4-wheelers. We may even visit Thomas & Loretta in Alabama who have a farm (they raise chickens for Tyson- can you believe it?!) which includes a catfish pond. Long have I wanted to learn to clean a fish. Yes indeed, there are many adventures to be had in Mississippi.
What can I say? I am so richly blessed. So much so that I got to drive down Highway 1 and enjoy beauty such as this:
Nothing to complain about here. Watch out! Financial freedom, here I come!
And I'm not going there. Aunt Judy & I are in Lake Charles, Louisiana, and tomorrow we will travel to Meridian, Mississippi to visit family on our way back to our respective homes.
"WHY??!!!," you ask. Well, it's a new thing for me. Let me explain it to you: I've run out of money. My budget is busted. Sure, I have a decent amount of money in my bank account, but it's almost all spoken for. And here's the change: I've looked at it, owned it, and am responding to it. Instead of spending some of my mortgage money and assuming I'll have more cash in time to pay the bills, I'm going to be responsive to my own actual needs... which includes some self respect.
And I'm not even heartbroken! Yes, I will miss New Orleans. Yes, I really think I could live there. Yes, I've always run from the reality of my finances, especially when they're not what I want them to be. But here comes baby step number one in the right direction: no more running; instead, an about face. Ya gotta start somewhere.
It will be great to see family I haven't seen in years. I have a cousin, Brooke, who's recently taken up dancing. The last time I saw her she was too young to talk. David, her father, is a hunter and has 4-wheelers. We may even visit Thomas & Loretta in Alabama who have a farm (they raise chickens for Tyson- can you believe it?!) which includes a catfish pond. Long have I wanted to learn to clean a fish. Yes indeed, there are many adventures to be had in Mississippi.
What can I say? I am so richly blessed. So much so that I got to drive down Highway 1 and enjoy beauty such as this:
Nothing to complain about here. Watch out! Financial freedom, here I come!
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Road trip! Part 3
So it turned out that Matthew had to work on Wednesday, and we had to come up with a plan B. Aunt Judy found a beautiful place to visit: Big Basin Redwoods State Park. It's absolutely gorgeous! California has lots of beautiful country in it: desert, mountains, forests, ocean. So Aunt Judy & I trekked up the mountains and got a closer look.
It was a long and curvy ride to the top, and Judy wasn't sure she would make it. It was amazing to see so many mailboxes and houses and to encounter traffic. I could live there, sure, but it's surprising to see how many people actually do live there, to wonder how they earn money and how often they have to drive up and down and up and down...The park ranger gave us the skinny on the trails. Judy decided to do the leisurely, scenic loop, and I took on a more challenging course. It was wonderful to be back in the forest- I think it's where I'm most at home. The air smelled wonderfully sweet and clear, and the lush greenness of the woods feels so supportive and adventurous all at once!
We only had a little time in the since I took forever getting ready to leave the house (yes, it's a theme) and Aunt Judy wanted to leave at 4:00 so we wouldn't have to drive down the mountain in the dark. So I found my trail and bolted, drinking in the beauty and making the most of a mountain-top workout. Part of me wanted to keep moving quickly, and part of me wanted to be still and soak it all in. But the brisk pace won out due to the lack of aerobic activity, and on I went. I saw no banana slugs, California's famed critter. But I did see acre upon acre of trees and foliage, and I doubt I will ever tire of it. 
As I neared the parking lot, I heard Judy chatting with someone; she always finds a buddy or some people to chat with. I smiled and kept shaking my tailfeathers as I power walked the scenic loop. These redwoods aren't the huge ones farther north that you can drive your car through, but they are BIG. You can stand inside of them and peek out.
I've always felt there's more magic in forests. The plains and the oceans are beautiful, and I enjoy themboth, but for me, forests eclipse other natural wonders. There's a large part of me that really believes I could wake the trees like Lucy in The Chronicles of Narnia. Hopefully someday I will end up a wild, mountain woman. But for the moment, I had to hike back down and navigate the curvy mountain roads once more (woohoo!).
Judy did not die on the ride down the mountain. We were glad.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Gravity: life after divorce
"The greatest thing in the world is to know how to belong to ourselves."
-Montaigne
-------------------------------
This is a post about life after divorce. The first part is about living with the hard truths- the ones that just hurt, the ones I can't change and instead just have to sit with... and find I am better for having sat with them.
The second part is about the bits of thankfulness I found in the shards of the broken relationship as well as the rebuilding process- where I can go from here, what I have to work with, how I move and change.
--------------------------------
It's Thursday night, October 25, and it's the first time I've really connected with the hard truth of our divorce. There's nothing special about the date, but today I've come face to face with a reality I never knew how to deal with. I was happy to have someone beside me, even if he wasn't the best match - I underestimated how much I took the joy of companionship for granted. It really doesn't make sense to divorce in hopes of finding someone better - there's too much hurt. All the platitudes I've given and received these past two years are bunk. It's hard, though, to look friends in the face and tell them they're lying when they think they're helping you. Especially when I wasn't admitting that to myself.
The odd thing is, everything is just flat. There's no emotional upheaval here, just... flatness. Maybe the crying will come tomorrow, I don't know. It's not so much that I have to deal with it as it is that I have to bear it and sit with it. I've run from this for so long, and now that I find myself here, it's not so bad. It just is. And I feel sternness from God. This is hard.
I wonder about relationships: what makes them tick, keeps them going day to day. How do two people stay together for 60 years? When I think about these things, this adage comes to mind: "It's not love that keeps the marriage together; it's marriage that keeps the love together." I think it's pertinent. I think it's true. I wasn't ready for marriage. Most people probably aren't ready for it when they marry, but they stick with it and tough it out. And I wonder why I didn't. What happened? I doubt I'll ever have an answer to that that will satisfy me. And that is something I shall have to live with.
-------------------------------
On the other hand though, we weren't a good match: I wanted to go out and dance; he wanted to stay in and read. Our families were very different, and he wasn't interested in getting more involved with mine. I was interested in rebelling against his parents' concept of what is OK. How does anyone make sense of all the dysfunction? Yet, if there were love and care underneath it all, dysfunction may not be such an unmanageable issue.
I can't say that I really did love him; I can't say that I really did care- certainly many of my actions said I didn't. I was in the relationship for myself, for selfish reasons, for success. Instead of being motivated by love for another person, I was motivated by self gain. I'm sure if we had really hung in there, God could have done something amazing with us and our marriage. But who knows what could have been? I see the needless torture of "what ifs" and avoid them and their ilk. I am planted more firmly than ever in the NOW.
And I have been moving differently of late- internally, that is. It's as if I got a new operating system, and it's muchlike a new toy in that I'm trying to figure out how it works. Little by little, I'm not so interested in clinging as I am in observing; I'd rather accept what actually is than long for what could be. I have let go of holding on (mentally, emotionally, spiritually) to so many people, mostly friends, and I feel so much lighter - it's like getting your sea legs when you get on a boat. I have moved closer to living life as I was created to live it, coming from a place where I can give, where I'm not emotionally or spiritually in the red. It's new, and I'm thrilled about it! I've been wanting to be where I am for so long, and now that I'm here, the challenge is not only to continue it, but to enjoy it. Knowing how to belong to ourselves is crucial, but also overlooked, undervalued, and not easily attained. I feel a freedom I have never known, and it is brilliant, but- I must continue to choose it.
-Montaigne
-------------------------------
This is a post about life after divorce. The first part is about living with the hard truths- the ones that just hurt, the ones I can't change and instead just have to sit with... and find I am better for having sat with them.
The second part is about the bits of thankfulness I found in the shards of the broken relationship as well as the rebuilding process- where I can go from here, what I have to work with, how I move and change.
--------------------------------
It's Thursday night, October 25, and it's the first time I've really connected with the hard truth of our divorce. There's nothing special about the date, but today I've come face to face with a reality I never knew how to deal with. I was happy to have someone beside me, even if he wasn't the best match - I underestimated how much I took the joy of companionship for granted. It really doesn't make sense to divorce in hopes of finding someone better - there's too much hurt. All the platitudes I've given and received these past two years are bunk. It's hard, though, to look friends in the face and tell them they're lying when they think they're helping you. Especially when I wasn't admitting that to myself.
The odd thing is, everything is just flat. There's no emotional upheaval here, just... flatness. Maybe the crying will come tomorrow, I don't know. It's not so much that I have to deal with it as it is that I have to bear it and sit with it. I've run from this for so long, and now that I find myself here, it's not so bad. It just is. And I feel sternness from God. This is hard.
I wonder about relationships: what makes them tick, keeps them going day to day. How do two people stay together for 60 years? When I think about these things, this adage comes to mind: "It's not love that keeps the marriage together; it's marriage that keeps the love together." I think it's pertinent. I think it's true. I wasn't ready for marriage. Most people probably aren't ready for it when they marry, but they stick with it and tough it out. And I wonder why I didn't. What happened? I doubt I'll ever have an answer to that that will satisfy me. And that is something I shall have to live with.
-------------------------------
On the other hand though, we weren't a good match: I wanted to go out and dance; he wanted to stay in and read. Our families were very different, and he wasn't interested in getting more involved with mine. I was interested in rebelling against his parents' concept of what is OK. How does anyone make sense of all the dysfunction? Yet, if there were love and care underneath it all, dysfunction may not be such an unmanageable issue.
I can't say that I really did love him; I can't say that I really did care- certainly many of my actions said I didn't. I was in the relationship for myself, for selfish reasons, for success. Instead of being motivated by love for another person, I was motivated by self gain. I'm sure if we had really hung in there, God could have done something amazing with us and our marriage. But who knows what could have been? I see the needless torture of "what ifs" and avoid them and their ilk. I am planted more firmly than ever in the NOW.
And I have been moving differently of late- internally, that is. It's as if I got a new operating system, and it's muchlike a new toy in that I'm trying to figure out how it works. Little by little, I'm not so interested in clinging as I am in observing; I'd rather accept what actually is than long for what could be. I have let go of holding on (mentally, emotionally, spiritually) to so many people, mostly friends, and I feel so much lighter - it's like getting your sea legs when you get on a boat. I have moved closer to living life as I was created to live it, coming from a place where I can give, where I'm not emotionally or spiritually in the red. It's new, and I'm thrilled about it! I've been wanting to be where I am for so long, and now that I'm here, the challenge is not only to continue it, but to enjoy it. Knowing how to belong to ourselves is crucial, but also overlooked, undervalued, and not easily attained. I feel a freedom I have never known, and it is brilliant, but- I must continue to choose it.
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