Granny passed very early this morning after a two month battle with congestive heart failure, just past 2am. My mom called me at about 3am; I was in a sound sleep, but just starting to have hints of waking as a huge thunderstorm- one of the most intense I’ve ever experienced since moving to Boston- came roiling in on top of us. The raging storm seemed fitting for the moment, signifying the end of something, and someone, so dear to so many people. She was 91.
I was very fortunate to have spent her 90th birthday with her last year, along with all of my aunts and uncles and several of the dozens of grandchildren (which sadly, I don’t even know 85% of their names or how exactly we’re related. I have a HUGE network of cousins and second cousins). Larry was even fortunate enough to be able to come down and join us also, as was my sister and brother-in-law. It was a really lovely day and I’m so lucky to have been able to share that with her. When she was hospitalized briefly a couple of weeks ago, I realized I might not have the chance to tell Granny how much I loved her, so I sent her a card to that effect. I’m so glad I did because she passed less than a month after that first scare.
Granny was born in 1919. She mothered 7 children: 2 boys and 5 girls – over a span of nearly 20 years. My Granny literally lived the term “dirt poor” and yet she always made sure there was a roof over their heads and food in their bellies. She lived in the deep South and yet always remained a fairly progressive woman. When her second youngest daughter (my Mom) married a Japanese man, he was welcomed into the family like just another person. This coming on the heels of the civil rights movement in the South- it was big deal at the time. She was also very supportive and excited about my decision to convert to Judaism and eventually marrying a Jew. She really loved Larry, and I’m so glad he got to meet her on a few occasions in the last decade.
She was always a no-frills kind of woman, with a huge heart and a wicked sharp intellect. She told it like it was and had the gift for some of the most biting one-liners. When I was born, she stayed with my Mom for a month as my parents adjusted to a new baby for the first time in 8 years. As she got older, my Aunt Kay took primary responsibility for her, Granny moving in with her and my two cousins. Granny lived with my Aunt Kay for nearly 10 years. When her health wasn’t doing so well, she was moved to the nursing home about two years ago.
I am very, very sad. My mom is of course, sad, but she and her siblings have been preparing for this all week, if not the last year or so. Still, it doesn’t soften the blow any less when it finally happens. Her funeral will be next week in her hometown in Georgia. I will probably not be online for most of next week, as there is extensive travel to get to this tiny little town. I want to leave you with one of my favorite stories about her.
My grandfather (who died before I was born) was kind of your typical man of the South in the 1940s-50s: drank too much, owned some guns, might have had a rough hand. Still, my Granny loved him and he was the father of her 7 children. He was a trapper and was responsible for fulfilling the breadwinner role in the home. My Granny was expected to stay at home, raise the kids, and do the 1950s housewife thing.
My Granny was an accomplished seamstress. She did everything she could to provide for and support her children, so she clandestinely began to start doing seamstress work and tailoring for the people in town. She used the money to purchase not one, but two life insurance policies on her husband. I told you: the women had a wicked sharp intellect.
Somehow my grandfather found out and in a drunken stupor decided to end Granny’s little side business. He picked up her Singer sewing machine right out of the house and marched it to the lake about a quarter of a mile away. There was no way his wife was going to be earning money more than he, much less really make ANY income. As he was ready to toss the whole sewing machine into the lake, he stopped as he heard the cock of a gun from behind him.
It was Granny, holding my grandfather’s double-barreled shotgun.
“If you throw my sewing machine into the lake, it’ll be the last thing you’ll ever do.”
Without a word, he turned around and started walking back to the house, my Granny following behind him with the shotgun pressed against the small of his back.
Needless to say, my Granny got her sewing machine back, and my grandfather never spoke of it again.
Now that is a strong woman.
Miss you, Granny.
I am so sorry for your loss. My Grandmother is such a huge part of my life and who I am. It's wonderful to have her be such an impact on my life, and I know you feel the same way about your Granny.
Just remember that she will live on in your heart. Hoping all those wonderful memories help you through the tough days ahead of you.
xoxo
she is MY HERO!!! Heaven is getting a fantastic and feisty lady.
I am sooo sorry for your loss. But it seems she raised an amazing granddaughter…:)
You are her legacy.
I'm so sorry for your loss. HUGS, and prayers for your family.
I just wanted to add my condolences – I also lost my grandmother in January, and I understand how awful that is. What a wonderful woman! – Tkeys (LFCA)
I'm so sorry for your loss. Your granny sounds like an amazing woman.
What a lovely tribute to your Granny! I'm so sorry for your loss but hope you can continue to gain comfort in your memories.
Your Granny sounds like an amazing woman – I hope that she is at peace now. I hope that you and your family find comfort in sharing your stories of her.
Take care.
Your granny is beautiful may she be resting in peace. My sympathy to your family.
Keiko, I'm so sorry to hear this. But she sounds like an amazing woman, and her strength and spirit is living on through you, I think. Chutzpah doesn't come from nowhere. *hug*
I'm so sorry for your loss. I was fortunate enough to have both of my grandmothers (also both very strong, determined women) live well into my adulthood. They have both moved along now and I miss both of them dearly. The loss does get easier to bear in time but it still feels like they have each left behind a large empty spot. Hang in there.
Condolences to you and your family honey.
xxx
(LFCA)
I'm so sorry for your loss. Your Granny sounds like an amazing woman.
Thinking of you and your family.
She sounds like such a fantastic woman.
My condolences to you and your family.
So Sorry for your loss. Grnadmothers are magical people.
Thoughts are with you and your family.
So, so sorry for your loss.
Sending lots of warm thoughts, prayers and virtual hugs your way.
Keiko, I'm so sorry to hear about the passing of your Granny. That sewing machine story is hilarious. Yes, I agree she was a very strong woman.
(((HUGS)))
I'm so sorry for your loss. She sounds like a really special grandma. I'll be thinking of you.
Take care.
Sounds like a wonderful woman just passed. I am so sorry for your loss.
Keiko,
You were fortunate to love, claim as yours and, share a good portion of life on earth with, this interesting woman from another place and time. Perhaps that is why you are a strong, clever and decisive woman. I know that you will miss her, but you will also carry a part of her with you as you go forward.
You express yourself so well. Writers are often told to write about what they know; perhaps someday I will be reading my copy (signed by you, of course) of a book about this feisty woman. it sounds like there would be plenty of material to draw upon. That's one way of keeping a memory alive.
Be well,
Lisa
I'm so sorry for your loss Keiko. Your Granny sounds like a fabulous woman and I would love to hear more stories about her.
Wicked sharp indeed! Smart lady, your Granny! I bet you dollars to donuts that sewing machine incident is indicative of her personality, isn't it? Fiesty, resourceful, with backbone a-plenty! Good for her!
I am so sorry to hear of your loss hon. My condolences to you and your family as your mourn your Granny's passing. Take the opportunity to grieve… but remember to celebrate her life and all the wonderful stories (like the sewing machine incident) that go along with it. Much love to you and your family at this time.
Your granny sounds like an amazing woman. I am so sorry for your loss.
Awwww. I pray that your Granny is in great peace wherever she is, and that she knows how much she would be missed.
I love the sewing machine incident. Inside the stereotypical mould was a very free, fiesty and passionate spirit. I loved it.
Hugs.