As I have grown and gotten older, I find myself reflecting alot more about the impact that people have had in my life. Some people come and go in our lives and some stay a part of it from start to finish. As we think about it, each person, regardless of the length of time spent with us, has impacted us in some way, whether great or small. My Grandma was one that was there from my start in life some almost 40 years ago until her death a few months ago. Aside from our parents there are so few people we can name in our lives that have that time of longevity. I was blessed that this Grandma had that. What I attribute this longevity to was that she was one tough lady. Her toughness and sense of survival is what kept her going. It is also what rubbed off on me quite a bit. Some call it stubbornness. Some call it hard-headedness. I called it "Grandma."
Since Grandma was almost 97 when she passed, she had gone through alot in life. She survived the great depression, all the wars that occurred between 1916 and now, many presidents and many popes. She survived the death of two husbands and all of her parents, siblings, and even her spouses' siblings. She even survived the death of a few niece and nephews. Through these experiences, somehow she always made it through. I honestly believe that many times it is because she had to and because of her toughness.
On the outside, you would see this lady like person. She never wore blue jeans until she was in her 80's and even then they had to look dressy. Her hair had to be just right or she wouldn't leave her home, her clothes could not have a wrinkle, and god forbid there be any sort of pantie line showing. On the inside though, she was a survivor. All the challenges in life she was given she somehow survived. She knew how to change a flat tire (even though I don't think she really ever had to,) and she could manicure her yard with flowers and decorations that would rival any master gardener. Her years of working in a factory at Wilson Brother's and sewing toughened her hands yet as I held them in the days and hours before her death, they were gentle and smooth and you could see that the toughness was not on the skin but in the movement and the knuckles that had tiredlessly worked to support her family, crochet blankets and afghans for all her grandchildren, and to cook amazing meals.
She knew how to survive. Whether as a kid or an adult, my grandmother, having lived through the great depression, became a stock piler like so many others who had during that time. I wouldn't call her a hoarder as she shared her stock piles with others. Shortly after leaving the convent and moving home, I got an apartment with my brother. I didn't make alot of money and so I had to figure out how to budget for all my basic needs. Whenever I went to Grandma's house she always made sure that I left home with supplies and food from the stockpile she kept on the shelves in the basement of the house. When my husband and I moved into our new house, she was there that day with at least 4 grocery bags full of food and supplies. She knew me so well that she knew what I liked and didn't like. ( No one knew me like she did.) One day as I pulled out coupons and started sorting them and filing them in my coupon binder, my Grandma smiled from ear to ear with delight. I believe it was at that moment that she realized that I had understood what she had been showing me and teaching me all these years. She knew her legacy and that the strongest part of her would live on after her body was no longer able to...her will to survive.
As I reflect on it now, my Grandma's impact in this role in my life has been one of the greatest gifts I have been given. She taught me how to survive. Over the years as I thought about my Grandma's impending morbidity...which I am sure we all do about someone in our lives...I could see how it would impact me. I thought about and warned people about the need for support during this times and the envisionment I had of me just sitting and rocking in a corner, not being able to go on living. I couldn't see how I would be able to live my life without her in it. I didn't want her to ever die. That's not only an improbability but an impossibility, I know. However, I kept wishing it would never happen. Survival isn't about living as long as possible. Survival is about just living and making it through each day no matter how long you are here on earth.
Today as I sit here typing I am still alive. I have survived her passing. Have I survived the grief and the feeling of loss...no. But I don't have to yet. What Grandma taught me about surviving is that it is a life long process. You do not overcome something and get over it. Rather, you overcome the event and learn how to live with the life changing events for the rest of your life....kinda like the impact that others have on us. What we chose to do with our grief and these life changing events is what becomes part of our legacy. The legacy of my grandma that I know must continue on is the ability to be a survivor. Someday, I know it will be my role to pass that along to my nieces and nephews and hopefully someday my own child.
I know I was blessed to become the woman I am today because I was given one tough lady as a part of mine.
Tough Chick by Sally Hansen is this week's 50 Shades of
Pink for Gertie Nail Polish. Believe it or not ladies, it was
actually picked out and purchased for me by my husband,
Jeff Murawski. He said that my Grandma was always
one tough chick!
(Disclaimer about last week's nail polish. Let this serve as a warning that the glitter nail polish is tougher than Haedes to get off! It took two days and half a bottle of nail polish along with a buffer to get it all off. It did cause some damage to my nails as it caused them to separate and peel on a couple of the nails...this why two of my nails look shorter! Be warned that it is a harsh nail polish.)
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