The Grownups

The grownups in my family were so much fun and it was great to be a child in their wild midst. No one was more fun than my Uncle Scott. He was, for a good part of the 1980s, something of the darling of the family. Here are some poor quality videos, but better than nothing. Goodbye Scotty Brown. We love you always. 

Deep Grief continued. Plus gratitude. Plus Joy.

Nearly a year she's been gone. Her face is the one I conjure when I need peace or strength. My whole life, more than 46 years, I was lucky enough to have her be my grandmother. She's still my grandmother and I'm still lucky. But oh, to touch her soft skin and smell her sweet head! To see that look in her eyes when you know she is listening so hard to everything you're saying because no matter what it is it's the most important thing in the world in that moment. To hear her holler our names and scold us. To watch her teach my little cousins and their children how to swim and cook (not well) and knit just like she taught me and my children. Remember that look of astonished joy she'd get if you told her about something great your kid did? Or your friend's kid did? Some little accomplishment? That beautiful smiling face.

And I'm so glad I always knew. I always knew how lucky I was that she was my gram. How lucky I was that she was my role model. How lucky I was to be hers.

She was scared a year ago when she was dying. She was really scared and it was really fucking real and horrible. But then when we knew it was true and the morphine did its thing it was ok. We all got to hold her as she went. Even the ones who couldn't be physically present in the room. We told her we loved her over and over again, stroked her hand, her hair, kissed her sweet, soft cheek. Kali sang to her and to all of us and made a sound-loop of lake sounds. We told stories and jokes; some at her expense. People I had never met came in to kiss her goodbye and tell us what she meant to them and we welcomed them as family and asked them to stay as long as they wished because that's what she does. I watched my daughter say goodbye to her great grandmother. And I missed my mother like I always do but not like you might think.

Henekis said it best with the Gladys Knight song she played at the service for Gram: Best Thing That Ever Happened to Me. I listen to that song and remember what Grammy always said: "We're so lucky." She was almost 95 and we got to say goodbye.

On deep grief and what to do about it

I found a letter that Champ wrote to his mother in 1965, shortly after his father died. I am so moved by his tender understanding of her grief at the loss of her husband and his grief in losing his father.  And comforted by his wisdom; words he wrote before my birth that fill me with love nearly 30 years after his death.

Champ and my mom at camp in 1952

     I want to hear from you exactly as to how your thoughts are moving through your mind though it tears my heart to read them. Still, I need to know, and you know that my feelings are the same.
     All the pleasurable little things in life that you treasure up, you treasure up to tell someone, sometime, who will share that pleasure in the only way you want it shared, and who will appreciate them as much as you.  All the little accomplishments you can't tell someone else because you feel they will think you too proud, you can tell to that special one who will feel as proud as you, and understand.  All the burdens that come to be too much to try to resolve, you bring out to that special one, because he will take the problem over and solve it, or at least fret it through with you.  In so many things in life you find the ever comforting thought that, when you want to, there is a place to turn.  I do understand.  Now that is gone.  The things to tell can't get told.   The problems seem insurmountable.  The joy of life is truly in sharing and knowing that the opportunity to share has been taken away, the joy of things won't seem to come out.  But surely there will be people to love, and people to share with you, and people to understand, some more deeply than you expect, although the high percentage of shallowness and preoccupation and self interest to be found in those around you will be discouraging.  But you don't need many, you need only one, or perhaps I should say one for each interest.  And there need not be a withholding.  That is a thing that will hurt you more and more.  Don't get introverted and withdrawn, but share your appreciations with others and realize that little gifts and attentions and words of praise and other thoughtful "out-goings" will keep you busy and make you happy.  When something has been shared and fallen on sterile ground and failed to take root, don't be discouraged.  Nature isn't that perfect and many seeds are scattered in to Earth's loose graveled mind to wither and fail to come to promise.