Saturday, May 14, 2011

The Mountain Woman of the Universe

Time is a concept that humans have no grasp on. I mean, sure…We think about the minutes in the hour and the hours in the day and the days in the weeks and the weeks in the months and the months in the year, but…We really have no clear understanding of the value of time, and it’s direct relation to our lives.

Sometimes, things happen to us that will alter our concept of time... Forever.

My grandmother was an amazing lady.
A stand up lady.

Shit, she wasn’t even really a lady. She cussed like a sailor and smoked a pack a day, and had no filter between her brain and her mouth. She said what she thought and she almost always said what she meant.

You know, it’s funny because when you’re little you don’t really think about your parents and grandparents dying. Sure, parents leave…they walk out…they get divorced…they lose jobs…they forget to pick you up from school or go to your graduation…but dying?


I never told my grandmother that I thought she was amazing.

I told her that I thought she was crazy.

I told her that she was controlling and needed to cut the invisible umbilical cord and just let me grow up. Let me worry about my own bowel trouble, and my own band aid application.

I told her that she needed to stop smoking.

I told my grandmother everything except what I needed to tell her.

I should have told her that I thought she was beautiful, and elegant. I should have told her that my favorite childhood feeling was her cool hands on my forehead when I was sick.

My favorite day of my life was with my grandmother. It was the day I started my period, and she said,
“Well, no one wants to feel like a goddamn menstruating walrus. Let’s go get ice cream.”

We spent the entire day just being together. Hell, half of the time we didn’t even speak. I was twelve and I let her hold my hand and I didn’t care that people were watching. At the end of the day, she tucked me in and said, “My little dumpling…I must’ve done something really, really, really great to deserve you.”

I should have told my grandmother how much she meant to me…and I shouldn’t have screened my phone calls. I should have taken her out to eat more, and lectured her less about her bad habits.

And these, memories… Her telling me about some third generation gossip that I cared nothing about…Her telling me to put vinegar on my sunburn…Singing Bee Gee’s songs and dancing around the house. These memories are all I have left. I listen to her voice, and I close my eyes, and I miss her.

When my grandmother had a heart attack…It was a shock. It shouldn’t have been, though.
She smoked a lot, ate a lot of hamburgers and exercised never.

She was in the hospital for five days.

There’s a concept of time for you. How do you tell someone everything you want to tell them, ever, in just five days. The day it clicked for me that my grandmother wasn’t coming home from the hospital was the day I walked into her room and she couldn’t press the button on the remote control for the television. She asked me to do it.

My granny, the goddamn mountain woman of the universe…The strongest woman I knew… Couldn’t even press the neoprene button on her remote control to change the channel on the television.

The funeral was really nice. It was simple. A lot of people I didn’t know were there. I guess I never realized that she had so many friends.

More than anything…I just hope that my granny knows that I loved her.

I loved her more than I ever told her.

I can’t believe it’s been seven years.
Time…It just gets away from you.


  1. oh lucy...i'd give you a hug if i could. I guarantee that the way you mother your children is a direct result of her love for you...and that is a part of her that will never pass away.

  2. oh...its rebecca white by the way..apparently you need a blog to comment on a blog...and then you can blog on my blog, but i probly won't even do a blog....such a weird word