The things we save- week of Gramma

The passing of my Gramma was and still is a very emotional event in my life. I say my and I really shouldn't. She was our Gramma; mine, my entire family and everyone who ever met her. We all love her and all of her influence on our lives. She is quite amazing when you think about it; and all of the people I think of when I say our Gramma, wouldn't be who they currently are without her. That amazes me, the effect of one person's life upon another. Especially, the unintentional influence that lands on each person you interact with.

I am a collector of many things.

Memories are the most prized of my collection.

The Gramma Collection

a sparse selection of memories

devoted to Jessie Mae Shaw

she worked at the library, she wore matching, styled clothing, usually purple, she got her hair done, had beautiful nails, she played the organ, read the newspaper, played bingo and bowled very well, she smoked long skinny cigarettes, and had a spark that kept you intrigued and let know that she didn't take any whining, she was thin and confident, and drove just like me, a little fast and sometime inpatient, she hunted for bargains, and played the lotto and scratchers, excelled at playing video games, and is one of my favorite Candyland players. She was also a saver of the important things in life, memories.

My grandma has left us, we now must do for ourselves things she would have done. It is a natural process, I assume we should have some sort of protocol for human emotional behavior for things such as death, and if we do, my manual is missing that section. Since I'm sure the human emotional manual is out of print or not compiled as of yet, I'll have to figure it out on my own.

Some people take there memories of that person and hide them away in a box,

some share them with close friends.

Some people never speak their loved ones names again to avoid the pain of memories.

Some embrace them with shrines or memorials.

Some celebrate once a year at a persons birth;

others twice the birth and death.

As for my choice among the many, everyday I have her picture on my wall framed in a stylish gold metal lace frame, and I say hi to her as if she right there. I tell her things I want to do and things that remind me of her. Anytime I see a butterfly, I tell her I love her. Often, if I'm lost, I follow it and feel like she is there showing me something.

I hold the few items I have that were once my Gramma's in high esteem.

I was the lucky one, I drove down to see my Gramma when my Auntie called me and told me she felt Gramma wasn't going to be here much longer.

I called my boss and said "I won't be there, sorry. This is much more important"

The drive down I talked to my Gramma in my heart and said .

"Just hold on Gramma, I'll be there, I promise."

You know, she did wait.

She waited for me to get there to hold her hand.

I told her I love her, that everything would be alright and that she could go if she wanted.

And then she did.

Surrounded by her children and grandchildren, all holding her and letting her know she is always loved. This was the most emotional I have ever seen my family. Naturally a group of ornery, sarcastic, joker; it was surreal to see them serious and saddened. No laughs, only tears and dramatic hugs. I'm glad we were there. I'm glad we are a great family that cares enough to keep our elders in a loving environment, even though it's hard work and rough on your mind and soul. I'm glad my Gramma's children are so strong in personal ethics and family ties.

Thank you for being amazingly family-oriented, sentimental and loving.

You are the tail to my kite, thanks for helping me fly!

I recall when I was small, sitting next to her on the couch. We were eating teddy grahams and I wrote her a note on a piece of paper, in pencil.

While looking through Gramma's items with my Auntie,

we found a dingy plastic pouch.

Inside this vintage plastic pouch, a piece of paper

addressed "for Grandma," was found, crisp and almost new.

It opened like a card to reveal my large handwriting from childhood.

"to: grandm

you are the bast gram in the wholebox but

if you want to toke to me do not clim out

plese I will tale you y ok if you clim

out of the box if I'm eating the gaims

I might axadenly eat you so If I was you

I would not clim out well is that ok.

NO Yes

O the 1 you want

LOVe winter!"

We couldn't believe that inside the bottom most drawer of Gramma's dresser was my note from years earlier. Safe and secure in Gramma's collection of trinkets, jewels and tiny memories of children and grandchildren. I felt utter and complete love through out myself at the site of my tiny gift saved for years.

remember.

love.

have fun.

*winter