The cherry pudding of our discontent

Last June, when the kids and I were visiting family in Michigan, my aunt Betsy slipped me an envelope. Inside were jewelry, photos, and old recipes that had belonged to my grandma. Today, finally, I spread out the recipes and read through each one.

What I want to know is, how can my grandmother's handwriting, so loopy and familiar, be here while she is not? How is it that she isn't a phone call or plane ride away? That I'll never get another birthday card written in her arthritic, but still flamboyant, hand?

How can it be that she died one of those awful First World deaths through which she lingered and lingered in a hospital for half a year, unable, somehow to let go?

How can her life have been over for seven years now?

How?

Comments

[Catherine]

I feel the same way about my grandmother. It's been 5 years. Thanks for writing.

[Jennifer Jo]

This weekend I was looking through old family photos and there was a black and white of me, about 6, holding my grandma's face and kissing her. The sudden, unexpected sadness overwhelmed.

[m]

I know!

[Laura from the Chi]

Lovely photo and a lovely, lovely heartfelt post. Losing my father at a young age, the most poignant moment was the point in my life where I had lived more years without him than I had lived with him. In the most unexpected moments, that sense of loss sometimes creeps in and snatches at your insides. Thank goodness for wonderful memories and traditions like your grandmother's jewelry and recipes. Those precious things are what keep our loved ones with us always.

[sister]

For some reason, I've been more focused more on G’ma Lucy lately. I just came across the picture of us recreating the cover of the booby trap game.

[kcinnova]

I don't know which is more poignant - your photograph or your writing... or perhaps even your title.

[All Adither]

Grandma Lucy! She was a gem. I love that photo. Didn't know you had it.

[Kasey]

Thanks for writing this. God, I miss her.