So, the only grandparent I had in my life was my mother's mom, Louise Simons. Her husband, Leo, passed away in 1976, when I was in kindergarten. I remember hearing stories about how I would sit on his lap and he'd tell a story about the "moo moo cow" going away and I'd cry, but then the "moo moo cow" would come back and I'd laugh. Whatever that means. So after Leo passed away, Grandma went on to live by herself for another 30 years. For most of those years, she lived by herself. If she were alive today, it would be her 105th birthday today. Sadly, she passed away on April 26, 2006. My brother Mark shares her birthday - he is 41 - but I'm thinking more about Grandma today. I shared the following words, slightly edited, at her wake:
I'd like to share with you a couple of reflections on how her life influenced my life and what knowing her means to me. It's an understatement that she was a very positive influence in my life. I was always close to her. I always viewed her as a strong person. I remember that when I was younger, she would babysit me on Saturday nights. We'd go to 4 PM Mass at All Saints, then go to her house for dinner. We'd have mac and cheese with hot dogs. For dessert, we'd have lime sherbet and Hershey's chocolate syrup.
I always saw Grandma's faith as a model for my own walk with Christ. I can't count the number of hours we spent in church together in addition to the Saturday nights she'd watch me. We always went to Christmas Eve Mass and she kept her bible on the kitchen table. Her faith was a model for me and I will never forget that.
After Grandma went to Hallmar, she was still always trying to care for me. I would visit during lunch hour and when I arrived, she'd be in the cafeteria eating. She would always ask if I wanted any of her meal and I would usually fib and say, 'no, I'm not hungry.' Sometimes she'd try and take something from someone else's tray to give to me. On other visits, we'd sit in her room. While we looked out her window, I would hold her shaking hand.
She was always feisty. One time when I was leaving, I told her she needed to stay out of trouble. She looked me square in the eyes and said, "You ask for the impossible." When the nurses would give her pill, she'd put it in her mouth and fake that she had swallowed it, then she'd turn to me and show me that she still had the pill on her tongue.
When Grandma broke her hip, Karen and I stayed with her a night in the hospital. She drifted in and out of consciousness. In the middle of the night, she bellowed:
Be at my side,
To light and guard,
To rule and guide.
At the top of her lungs.
There was always a twinkle in her eye, even when she was not doing so hot. The very next night, when I went to visit her, a nurse came in. She said to Grandma, "Louise, I'm going to put an IV in you and this is going to poke a little." When the needle touched her skin, Grandma jerked her arm away from the nurse and said, "Hey! Don't do that!" The first nurse called a second nurse. The first nurse held the needle, the second nurse held Grandma's left hand and I held her right. The first nurse said again, "Louise, this is going to poke a bit." This time, when the needle touched the skin, Grandma couldn't move her left arm and she couldn't move her right arm so she tried to spit at the nurses.
One special part of my life that Grandma and I shared was music. She bought me my first cassette tape in 1980. Nearly 4000 CDs and tapes later, I think it is fitting that I heard this song I'm about to play for you just today. It's a song that describes someone longing for the waiting to be over, to join Christ in heaven. The lyrics that stick out when I hear this song are as follows. I think of the conversation Grandma was having with Christ during the last days of her glorious life.
Then I played a song by Chris Rice entitled "Smile."
To say I miss Grandma is an understatement. I have converted some College Tapes to MP3 and so I can hear her voice, literally. It makes me really happy to hear her voice. Another way that she is always present in my day to day life is within the name of the band I play drums in. The name of the band is Lou's Classic Ride. There are three people named Lou that influenced that name.
- My father-in-law's name is Lou and he always talks about the classic cars he used to own.
- Joe's ex-father-in-law served blacks at his diner when that wasn't being done.
- Lou is short for Louise. Grandma made drum cases out of denim for me and I still have them. She also helped clean my cymbals at least once in my parent's basement tub sink. I remember she went to mass at St. Pius when I used to play with their music group during my senior year of high school into my freshman year of college. And, as I mentioned above, she bought my first cassette (the Xanadu soundtrack). The story behind that is that my mom said I could get a record, which was a few bucks, but I ended up with the Xanadu soundtrack instead. I think I was supposed to pay Grandma back the difference, but I also don't think she ever accepted the money. Back when this was happening in 1980, cassettes were between $10 - $12 and a 45 RPM record was between $4 -$6.
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