a Birthday and a Funeral

My Mom's 68th birthday is today.  She will be spending the day attending her mother's funeral.

My Grandmother passed away this past Thursday morning.  She would have been 89 years old next month. 

I was not a good granddaughter.  I rarely visited or communicated with my Grandmother.  I think I saw her maybe three times in the past decade.  There are a lot of reasons for that, but none of them are very good ones.

Fortunately, my Grandmother was surrounded by family, including other grandchildren (I was one of 29) who were an active part of her life.  I noticed when I read her obituary that she had 42 great-grandchildren.  That's a lot of progeny.

My Grandmother was Appalachian, and I never gave her enough credit for the remarkable things about her.  She was a woman of tremendous resilience.  She raised 8 children in extreme poverty.  They were poor, but they made it.  Somehow, even in the absence of working utilities, indoor plumbing, and food, she brought her kids up.  She was married to a man, my Grandfather, who was a decent enough guy when he wasn't drunk.  The problem is, he was drunk all the time.  And when he was drunk, he was a mean you-know-what.  But, my Grandmother stayed with him until the day he died.

Even when times were hard, my Grandmother maintained a sense of humor and was optimistic.  She had a devout "come what may..." attitude.  She never seemed to get too ruffled by anything.  Whatever happened, she just rolled with it.  She was probably the most easy-going person I ever met.  I never heard her raise her voice.  I never heard her complain.

Most of her life, she struggled to make ends meet.  After my Grandfather died, things did get better for her.  She moved into a little apartment in a retirement-type community and she lived there for a lot of years.  She enjoyed her life during that time and got to do things she never had the opportunity to do before, including doing a little bit of traveling.  Financially things were easier for her and she led a pretty happy and content life there.  I'm glad she had that time.  She certainly earned it after all the years upon years upon years of just barely surviving day-to-day.

My Grandmother was a creative and talented woman.  She had mastered what I consider the dying art of crochet.  In addition to crocheting some magnificent things, she could knit, sew, cross-stitch and do a whole host of other crafty things. 

She was also one terrific cook.  She could peel a potato so that nothing came off but the skin.  When I peel a potato, it ends up being about 1/3 smaller than it was before.  I just don't have the patience, which is kind of a requirement in many forms of cooking.  For example:  roasts.  My Grandmother could make a pot roast that melted in your mouth.  She cooked it nice and slow in a big cast iron skillet right on her stove top. 

Patience is also a requirement for baking.  I'm a decent cook, but a terrible baker.  Again, I just don't have the patience.  My Grandmother, though, was known for her delectable baking.  I remember one Christmas many, many, many years ago, she made 3 meringue pies:  chocolate, lemon, and butterscotch.  I had a piece of each and a second of the chocolate.  That's right.  I ate 4 pieces of pie in one day-- that's how good they were.  Fortunately I was skinny enough back then to pull it off. 

One other thing that I'll always remember about my Grandmother is having Kool Aid out of little red Tupperware cups in the trailer she lived in with my Grandfather when I was a kid.  Grandma's Kool Aid was much better than my Mom's.  Grandma used extra sugar.

Of all the wonderful things about my Grandmother, to me the most wonderful thing is that she gave birth to my Mother, who I love and adore deeply.  My Mom is an amazing person and an angel on earth.  My heart is breaking that she is spending her birthday attending her mother's funeral.  On top of that, I feel a sense of shame for being such a bad granddaughter and an even deeper sense of shame that I'm not able to attend my Grandmother's funeral to pay homage and to support my Mom.

Today hurts.  It's one of those days that I'm regretting moving away from home and the people I love and care about.