A Love Rock for Grandma Jo
Shortly before she passed away eight years ago, we took Grandma Jo to the park. Jack and I took turns wheeling her around; Skye was too small. I suppose I was eye-level with her sitting figure at the age of seven and remember discussing rocks. I would pick one up, and she would tell me what the shape reminded her of. There was a boat, a leaf, and a heart. This last one we argued about for a bit. She would turn it clockwise and tell me it was an "L"; a Lucy rock. No, Grandma, it's a heart...for love!
I found our heart rock yesterday evening and began to cry. My last memory of her is withdrawn; she began wearing wigs to hide the chemotherapy's effects. Her battle was with ovarian cancer. She would remove the wig when home, as it was itchy and uncomfortable. I hated seeing her bald. She's my grandma, she should have white, fluffy hair. 'Imagine her like a baby - babies are bald,' my dad would tell me. I couldn't bring myself to do so. I felt the baldness embarrassed her and was embarrassed for her. I was watching television in her home when she, wigless, brought me a blanket to wrap up in. I didn't even look her way -- I was too afraid! I know I was little...I tell myself she understood. It's hard, you know, when my memories of my mother's mother include rudeness and a rock. The rock, I will treasure forever. Lucy's rock. Grandma Jo's love rock. I miss her every day and wish emptily that I had more than a heart-shaped rock.
3 comments:
Wow Lucy!
What a vivid picture.
It stinks losing a grandparent when you are young.
I hear stories of my "Papaw", my Kentucky grandfaher.
The ultimate citizen, owner of the farm and garden store, and just a good man.
I wished I would have known him, but my memories of him include him in a blue chair with an oxygen tank.
One time I told him that I wanted to collect keys, or so I hear.
When he died I got this cigar box filled with keys he had collected for me. Small one's, keys to petty locks, keys to cars, a key chain that says I heart my doberman picher. I keep it in my closet and take it out from time to time and run my fingers across the seemingly meaningless metal. But I cherish every one and imagine the excitement he felt when he found a new key just for me. Its unfourtunate that I never really knew him, but I know one day that I'll meet my Papaw and I'll hear him say again, "So how's my Georgia Peach?"
I loved this post!!! It made me reflect on my own experiences losing grandparents, and the memories I had. Definitely cherish those that you have, Lucy! :)
in an attempt to make this glass half full, you do have the love rock..
in all obviousness, it's not a replacement for the person she was, but (to be a little abstract) a portal back to it. Something to corral the good thoughts and memories.
just a thought.
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