1
Everybody must feel, at one time or another, that their lives are weird in some way. Mine was weird also.
I had three significant people disappear from my life, having first saying goodbye in the most delightful ways. There has been a rhythm to it.
My grandmother on my mother’s side, the grandmother we called “Gram,” wasn’t a typical grandmother. She didn’t relate to us as children; she wasn’t jolly and funny; sometimes she was frightening. But in my case, when I attained the age of 11 something changed. My grandmother and I joined forces–and this happened suddenly–where we became rapturously close and couldn’t get enough time to be together. When Thursdays came–that was my grandmother’s night for coming to dinner–I ran home from school, threw my schoolbooks onto a chair, and flung myself at my grandmother. Most of the time we weren’t physically close but I loved it, giving her a hug. Then she would sit quietly as I chattered away about everything that was important. She listened to all I had experienced for the past week. She remembered everything I had said. She gave me advice on relationships with friends–she reminded me to keep my dignity and not lose my pride. We talked about clothes. My grandmother was quite fashionable as a young woman and she knew how important it was to have your skirts touch your knees at a precise point. We looked at magazines together, my grandmother pointing out which model had the best hair style, etc.
Even more blissful were the times when my grandmother told me family stories. It’s obvious to the people who know me–I was unconsciously collecting these stories. I haven’t forgotten anything she told me. Sometimes she would sit in her chair while I sat at her feet and listened and asked questions. Always with me it was questions, questions, questions.
We also played cards. She taught me how to play gin rummy and concentration. She was an avid poker player; I wanted to learn it but that project got pushed off, never to return.
2
Bar Mitzvah and Bat Mitzvah children are considered “adults” after going through the ceremonies. I had a bat mitzvah all my own.
One day in the summer of 1962–I was 12–my mother got a phone call from our grandmother. She had awakened with an terrible pain in her back and could hardly move. She needed to see our family doctor who was her first cousin and had the odd name of Meynor Silverberg. However, my mother and her two sisters all were home with small children and had no car. My father and my uncles needed the cars to get to work. So–it was decided that I would be put into a taxicab, go to the Morrowfield to pick up my grandmother, and accompany her to the doctor’s office.
As my grandmother used to say–Oy Gott!! I didn’t think I could do this. How would I handle everything? My mother gave me some money for the cab, told me to tell the driver that he needed to wait until I came back down with my grandmother, then go on to the doctor’s office.
I walked down that long, dark hall to my grandmother’s place. She was half-standing in her bathroom, nude. Somehow, very slowly, I helped my grandmother to dress and walked her down the hall. My grandmother had a lot of names for me; one of them was “shanekeit” which I am told means “beautiful spirit” in Yiddish. I was a shanekeit that day and it made me feel so proud. Once we were in the doctor’s office my grandmother’s pain was beginning to fade. This shouldn’t surprise anybody. There is a mind-body connection and my grandmother was going to see her first cousin, someone she trusted.
Everybody was proud of me.
My grandmother died when I was 14, so we had three years of pure bliss in each other’s company. When she died I was very, very sad and missed her a lot. But I was young and I didn’t have to grieve long. But I will say this; I still think of my grandmother, every day.
A final note re: growing up in the matriarchal clan…when my own mother was slowly dying and we spent three years blissfully in each other’s company I told her that I used to worry a lot; when “Gram” and I became such good, good friends I thought she, my mother, was jealous. But my mother just laughed and said it was a joy to see the two of us together.
lgmwriting 