It has been over a month now since I said goodbye to one of my dearest friends, my grandmother Tillie.
Even now I have still not 100% processed the fact that she is gone. I miss her terribly and just want everyone that reads this to know what a wonderful and amazing woman the world lost that day in July. I can say with confidence that without her this blog would not exist and I would not be the person who I have become today.
My Grandmother was no ordinary grandma. She was smart as a whip up till her last moments on earth. She possessed a witty humor and such a great albeit ancient level of knowledge. If it were not for her I doubt that I would have had the love of learning, reading and writing that I possess today. My childhood began in the suburbs of Cincinnati Ohio about 10 minutes drive from my grandparent's home. My earliest memories are of my Grandmother and my Papa Irv. They were such a perfect fit the two f them. Papa was such a soft, kind and sweet man that was so full of love. Grandma showed her love in different ways. She always treated you as a little person not as a child. You were expected to behave, have manners and always be on the path to bettering yourself. From an early age we were immersed into the world of books and learning. Grandma didn't have cable, we didn't watch TV other then the exception of Jeopardy at night and classic musicals rented from the library down the street. Instead we learned. We built things, did all kinds of projects, cooked, went to museums, visited zoos, collected books from the library and listened to Grandma and Papa read to us. And no they didn't read us twaddle they read us fantastic poetry like Rudyard Kipling, Robert Frost and many others. Then one day we moved away to Pittsburgh PA because my dad had gotten an offer to have several offices there. I still have those sad letters I wrote to my Papa saved in my scrap book. It was not until years later though that I received a letter admitting just how deeply saddened he was when we moved away. Alas that was not the end of our journey. We began spending summers in Cincinnati with grandma and Papa. I would go for two weeks and usually end up begging for just a few days more. As we entered into elementary school Grandma stepped up the game. it was time for better books (think little women) , handwriting practice and to memorize those poems we had listened to our whole young lives thus far. Still we loved Cincinnati and though at the time we were not fond of the work it molded us gently into who we would become untimely. They fostered our loves and nurtured our interests which gave us so much knowledge and so many avenues of topics to pursue. I remember as a child loving human anatomy so much that my grandparent bought me my very own human body encyclopedia. I tore through that book even taking notes and highlighting at the tender age of seven years old. I actually sat down and wrote a report on the entire book on my own, outside of school because I loved it that much.
That support and encouragement never ceased as I aged. Through my teen years I was not as receptive to her advice and opinions but hey what teen likes to be told what to do and that they could GASP be wrong. So yes there were some years of disconnect but still those early roots stayed planted and growing in the form of my own poetry. I wrote hundreds of poems detailing the emotions of my struggles with my Autism throughout my adolescent life. As my hormones subsided and my maturity began to take hold I rekindled that dear relationship I had with my Grandmother. She became my confidant and I could tell her anything without fear of rejection. My Grandmother knew of my darkest days and some of my darkest moments in life. She supported me through it and she applauded me in my ability to bring myself out of it all and back onto the road of life.
Then in my late twenties babies entered my life as my first son was born. I got to watch my grandmother become a great-grandmother finally. Oh how she doted on my little guy. I saw a softer side of grandma that I had not seen before and it was beautiful. I soon began building my son a library of books and they were his earliest friends. By the time he was a year he had crates full of books in his little playroom. I began the research on homeschooling him and entered into a new world of knowledge and wisdom. Then one became two, then three and now here I sit with number four in my belly as I write this. My youngest son will never get to meet the amazing woman that was his Great-Grandmother but he will know her. He will now her through the story times and poetry. He will know her through my words and memories and he will know her for the woman that his mama became. My Grandmother gave me so many beautiful things but none of them you can put in a box or display on a shelf. My children will grow up surrounded by the beautiful things my Grandmother gave me and I hope that is inspires them and affect who they become as profoundly as it has for me in my life.
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