Wednesday, July 13, 2011

The Most Royal Servant

I went to my Grandma's house to visit my Pappy for the first time since the funeral last month. The kids and I were at the park and I just started driving there like we were going to stop for a snack after running around in the sun and playing in the crick. I pulled up in front of the house and a cloudy veil of tears lowered itself in front of my eyes before I even realized the real truth of the matter. My Grandma wasn't there, she wasn't even still walking this very earth.

I weathered through it so I wouldn't make the kids sad and sat on the couch and visited with my Pappy. I didn't do my customary walk into the kitchen to ransack the fridge, I didn't go upstairs and lay in her bed on the giant silky royal purple comforter, I just sat there and talked and shushed the kids and told them to be calm.

Olive wanted a drink ten minutes in and it had been a hot day, so I went into the kitchen and lost it. My chest shook with sobs and my face burned red. I don't know if I am just sad or mad as well at my inability to get over this loss, maybe I never will. Rosey came in after me and hugged me, my darling serious 11 year old daughter comforted me and told me it was OK to cry. I sat down for a moment and looked around the room and cried some more. I had sat in that room and helped my Grandma cook great feasts, small treats, saltines and butter, pickles and american cheese. She had a TV mounted in the top corner of the room and listened to the news, different cooking shows or religious broadcasts, sometimes I would wake up in the morning in her bed and just listen to her below me in the kitchen, praying to herself or cussing out some stupid politician.

I was snapped out of my moment of grief by a yell from the living room:

"MOMMA! WHERE IS MY DRINK!?!?" Olive is whining to the point of tears herself.


"MAGOO! GET THEM CHOCOLATE MILK, IT'S ON THE FRIDGE DOOR!" Pappy is the loudest of them all...

I guess maybe I have a little piece of my Grandma to carry around with me forever at the bidding of my family. The Most Royal Servant.


Vinny C said...

While it's true that you never really get over it, it does get easier with time. Hang in there.

Brenda C. Boylan said...

Magoo? Does your Pappy call you that because of Mr.s Magoo? My GP likes to tell me the story of the day I was born and he first met me, and he told my mom I looked like Mr. Magoo.
When you talk about your grandmother, it makes me think of my grandmother. I worry all the time about when she passes. How I will survive. She is ok right now, but is starting to show signs of giving in. I don't know how I will survive it, but I know I will. Thank you for sharing your heart.

Kal said...

What a beautiful tribute to your Gran. I lost my beloved father five years ago and it still hurts a little everyday and it should. When it stops hurting that's the time to start asking yourself questions. I hope I never totally get over my Dad's death.

nova said...