Most folks that I know share wonderful memories of time with their grandparents. I've got a few of them myself. No, I'm not going on a diatribe of what occurred from ages 3 to 19, but I figured it would be a great 'self reminder' to write out what Grammy taught me to hold as important.
There are often times as a parent when I question how I've handled my children and issues that crop up on a daily basis. The situations at work that might frustrate some, I try to take a step back and decide the best course of action. When thinking of how my actions and reactions appear to acquaintances, friends, or random strangers, I try to be mindful. Grammy taught me that my actions can and do effect all parties involved, however small it may seem.
My favorite memories of Grammy and her wisdom are those that I will always cherish. The visits to her home while I was in my first years of college were amazing. One of thirty two (yes 32) grandchildren, you tend to feel as though you're 'lost in the crowd'. My visits to her after classes provided me the opportunity to get to know my grandmother as a person, not just the lady that could out-cook, out-bake, and out-clean my own mother.
One visit brought me to her home after a harrowing teenage day. I just wanted warm cookies, milk, and someone to tell me how much they loved me. We sat in the kitchen for a short time, overlooking the arbors of grapevines and the many rows of pine trees that stood in her back yard. After the comfort food, we moved to her immense living room. Sitting on the ottoman of the chair Grammy reclined in, she began to ask me how things were with my friends and classmates. I began to recount to her, a tale fitting of a typical teen. I relayed to her how one of my closest friends had used a secret I told her against me. Blackmail for the most part, of the emotional type. As I opened up about the sordid (or so I thought at that time) details, Grammy sat, nodding her head, then tilting it to one side. She was thinking about how she was going to respond.
Waiting on her pearls of wisdom, expecting her to give me advice about the exact issue at hand, Grammy asked me a question instead. "Why are you doing that with your hands Suzy?"
Hadn't she heard a thing I just told her? I bled my heart out, told her stuff I wouldn't tell my mom, and all she's interested in are my hands?
Grammy had watched every bit of my movements, my breath, and specifically, how I was wringing my hands, all while listening to what I was SAYING.
"Suzy, you tell me that this young lady is your friend. Would a true friend have you wringing your hands about your relationship with them?" The bomb had been deployed by this petite woman, whose soft voice could pierce even the thickest armor.
To this day, I consider my relationships by the hand-wringing that does or does not happen.
A year or so later, and many more visits, I was driving by Grammy's home. I had planned on stopping in to see if she needed anything, or if she was up for some company. It was getting dark. There were no lights on in the house that I could discern. A few times, I had pulled in after dark, and not seeing lights on in the house, left. She was older, and most likely in bed early, so this wasn't much of a concern.
I don't know what it was, there were no 'issues' or problems to solve this time. I just merely wanted to see her. My mind raced to thoughts of her being ill, or worse yet.... Hopping out of my little red Mustang, I made my way to the back porch and rapped on the door. A moment later, the light ticked on, and there she was. She invited me in directly to the living room. It was too late to be eating, and the kitchen had been cleaned for the night.
When we arrived in the living room, there was one small light. It was a battery powered lantern. Perched perfectly next to her reading chair, it gave off just enough light to illuminate a few feet away. She had been reading by this light just a few minutes before my arrival.
When I asked why she used this, Grammy explained that because it was just her, there was no need to have 'a bunch of lamps blazing through the night'. I then imparted to her the number of times I had passed by or pulled in the driveway and left, because I didn't see any lights on in the house. She giggled, patting her small, work-worn hand on my knee.
"What is it that I would need to see? If I truly need to see something, I will shed light on it, or just simply put the thought aside until morning. There is nothing that I need, nor want to see in the dark that wouldn't look immensely better in the light of day." What an illuminating thought!
Grammy relayed to me that if there was something to be done, it should be done during the daylight hours. If it was still pressing on my heart, set it aside, it would be there, waiting for me to deal with it in the morning. We began chatting about the deeper meanings of how a life could be run in a more efficient manner. She shared about her latest read All Creatures Great and Small, telling me how much she enjoyed the characters.
As our visit ended, Grammy walked me back to the kitchen, turning on a few lights for me along the way. She gave me a hug and kiss, and as I walked down the slate stairs and walkway out the back door, she gave me her parting comment: "Sometimes, it is better to be in the dark. Certain things aren't always pleasant to view, no matter the type of light."
Knowing the deeper meaning of Grammy's words, it was not just about cheating the power company. It was not having to know what every other person is doing, thinking, or saying. It comes down to too much noise in the head that is unnecessary.
I like sitting in the dark, it frees my spirit.
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