Hugs, Pix. I really enjoyed your posting of pictures and memories of your grandmother. Enjoy the time reminiscing with your family.
Thanks so much. It was much more difficult than I thought it was going to be. I had a long speech about her remarkable impact on me (which I posted on FB, should anyone want to read — or if you don't FB, happy to share via email), and I felt totally confident up until when I walked up to the pulpit. It's been four months since she passed away, and she lived such a long life — almost 103 years — and I'd purposefully made the speech sweet, but funny. I thought I was ready.
Then I opened my month, and my throat closed and the tears started, and I honestly didn't know if I was going to be able to get through it. It took me almost a full page before I finally settled into it and was able to steady myself to move on. I was doing that awful thing where you're reading and your voice is cracking and you can't quite get the next word out, and I kept thinking, "Really? Now? In front of everyone?"
But I'm so glad I made it. I'm so glad I got to share my memories of her. I'm so glad she was such an important part of my life for so long. And I'm so glad that I inherited at least a tiny bit of her boundless resilience.
A little excerpt from the speech to give you a taste of Grammy Frances:
Frances is my grandmother. She was born in 1913 in rural Maine, and she is one of the few true remaining Yankee farmers.
Gram is the kind of woman that makes Rosie the Riveter look like a girly girl. Case in point: at the age of 89, she was still living in her house alone. She had gone upstairs to move a television in her guest room — no, she didn't call any of us to help her with this task — and while doing so, her hip snapped. She landed on the floor hard enough to know she'd done some serious damage, but she also knew her phone was downstairs. Always the stoic New Englander, she began scooting purposefully across the floor, a few feet at a time.
By the time she reached the top of the stairs, she needed a break. As she rested there a moment, she noticed that the cat box was dirty. "Well," she figured, "I'm not doing anything right now anyway. Shouldn't waste time."
By the time my mother got the phone call and rushed home to take her to the hospital, Gram had cleaned the litterbox, pulled herself down a flight of stairs, dragged herself across the room, made herself a sandwich (she thought she might get hungry later in the emergency room), and taken a single aspirin for the "discomfort" of her broken hip. It was the only painkiller she took up until her full hip replacement the next day.
They just don't make them like her anymore!
Yay for making it through the speech. Not at all easy to do and I am sure it was appreciated. It is wonderful that you had such an incredible role model. Since I didn't have any grandparents I may have to use your gram as inspiration when I am not giving life my full effort.
Your grandmother sounds awesome, Pix. What a wonderful person to have in your life.
Good for you for getting through the speech, that's a hard thing to do. My sister gave "our" speech at our Mom's eulogy - She made it almost all the way through before her voice started to crack. I don't know if I could've done it.
A darned fine Yankee womman, Pix.
Wow--hardcore, Pix! I'm glad you got to know her.
Your Gram was a wonder, Pix!
Any kitty~ma you can spare for Miss Kitty would be appreciated. The arthritis in her hips and hind legs is getting worse. She doesn't appear too bothered by it, but her hind legs don't always do what she wants. This morning, she wasn't in her usual spot on the window ledge and I hadn't seen her after I fed her last night. Was just trying to brave myself up to go looking, thinking her body finally gave out on her, but then she reappeared and is lounging in the window.
When we saw the vet a couple of months ago, she said they could do x-rays to assess how bad it was and give her pain meds, but it didn't sound like the x-rays would lead to anything more than knowledge. And she doesn't appear to be in pain. She just fishtails a lot and watching her jump down from any distance makes me cringe. Sweet girl is about 15 and I hate seeing her go through this.
Aw, poor Miss Kitty. Give her a scritch for me.
