Eulogy of Remembrance
I remember for as long as I can remember
A woman worth remembering
Every time I spoke to my Grandmother, she always said that she was blessed to have such wonderful children, grandchildren and now great grandchildren. She bragged about how beautiful we all are and how lucky she was. When I think of my grandmother I think of many summers tapping on the keys of her piano. I think of attempting to play a made up game with made up rules that had something to do with a game of pool. I picture a refrigerator door that was full of tokens (magnets) which represented her loved ones; accomplishments, love, admiration and memories that were important to her. I think of keeping my elbows off the table, chewing with my mouth closed and forks always go on the left side of the plate.
My grandmother was one of the most spectacular women I have ever known, and she always had a way with me, and was able to see me-even when I wasn’t able to see myself. She was able to see through the layers of attitude, anger and mischief into a person’s soul, especially mine.
I have hundreds of wonderful beautiful memories of time spent with my grandmother, each of which is special to me.
It never mattered that I was different- She would say different is good
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To Remember the Good
My grandmother helped me become me.
I had a conversation over the phone with my grandmother about a year ago that I am truly glad I was able to have. The conversation began as most do, with a series of questions to catch up on lost time. We were talking about my two children, Abigail and Collin, and how they were growing up so fast. I was telling her about work and all that I wanted out of the future and how hard life can be at times. I asked her how she was doing, if she was eating right and what she thought about her upcoming move. She gave a strong sense of strength in dealing with the emotional strain that the idea of moving was having on her. She described to me her new apartment and that some things inside her home of 50 years would not be moving into the apartment with her.
At some point during our hour and a half long conversation, the discussion changed direction and focused on the past and the time I had spent there with her and my grandfather over the years. I told her that I remember everything about the back bedroom where my sister and I slept while we were visiting during our summer vacations. I have a perfect visual of the room, everything from the photographs of her and Aunt Carol that hung on the wall, to the various blankets that grandma would lay at the foot of each of our beds every night, just in case we got cold, are frozen within my memory. I told my grandmother how much I loved all those mornings when I would wake up in one of the matching twin beds, with the sun shining on my face. I remember the smell of those summer mornings being a brilliant mix of fresh air and freshly brewed coffee. I told her I wished I was still a kid and was still able to have those summers, she told me, in a very Vivian, matter of fact, tone;
“Well you can’t, so don’t spend so much time thinking about it”, I laughed and said, “You’re right, besides that I was a miserable teenager and would hate to re-experience the misplacement I felt during my adolescence and early adulthood.”
What Grandma said to me next was just a few sentences which made me cry but also let me know how well my Grandma truly knew me and who I was deep inside, even as a child. She said,
“You have always been different; you have always taken things too personally when the intention was never to hurt you. You have always been the one to consider others feelings when a decision needed to be made because you hated to be the one who disappointed. You show the world a tough outer layer, because inside your heart is so big and people with big hearts often feel more pain when others decide to lash out and be mean. What you need to realize is, the mean actions of others have nothing to do with you, and it has to do with them.”
She then said, “When you get to be my age you will finally see that people are just people, and people do and say stupid things when they are afraid of someone who is different or better at something than they are”.
She told me that my heart, my stubbornness and strive to succeed makes me someone to be feared and I should be proud that I don’t fit in and am a little different.
My grandmother was a beautiful lady inside and outside. She was a little different, which is why she was so special and such a wonderful woman. She loved her family with every breath she ever took. She was strong when times required her to be strong. She was kind and loving when she saw someone who needed a friend or shoulder to cry on. She gave her support when she believed in something or someone worth believing in. My grandmother hated to admit to being wrong and loved to prove she was right. She had a feisty attitude and limited tolerance for careless, poor or harmful decisions and the people that constantly choose to make these types of choices. She played a mean game of bridge and was active in her church for many years. She loved swans, Texas and Angels. She stayed up far too late reading the newspaper or pages out of one of the many books that surrounded her chair in the living room. If you gave her a moment she would tell you about all the successes of her children, how talented and brilliant her grandchildren are and how she has the most beautiful great grandchildren in the world, and to prove it she would show you a display of photographs. She always appreciated the people in her life and loved them all for who they are. My grandmother always said that she was blessed to have such wonderful Children, Grandchildren and Great Grandchildren. But the real truth is, as blessed as she felt she was to have her family and friends, it was each of us who were truly blessed to have my grandmother, Mrs. Vivian in their lives. Because if you were so lucky as to of met Vivian, and had a moment to get past the stubborn attitude that she showed often, you know her heart, and she was a woman with a beautiful heart and a beautiful soul-that blessed so many peoples lives, mine being one of them.
So out of the hundreds of memories I have of my grandmother, there really isn’t one that I can single out as being the best or greatest to share with the world, because what was best about my grandmother was the way that she loved me, believed in me and helped me become me, and there are no words or memories that I can find that can truly express how much I love and will miss my grandmother.
Where this Hub stems from...
In the past three months I have lost both of my grandmothers. The first of which passed away July 2nd and more recently my father’s mother passed away September 22. Both women were special to me, as a grandmother should always be special to her grandchildren. I was asked to write a Eulogy in remembrance of my grandmother for the funeral services this coming Monday September 27, 2010. This is what I wrote. All feedback will be especially appreciated, for I had a hard time writing this through the tears. Thank you.