My grandmother has always been unapologetically intelligent,
the kind of funny that only comes from smarts, and the perfect amount of
sarcastic bite behind her smile. She embodied all of the things that you will
never find in someone that has become watered down and molded to fit. I am sure, somewhere along her life, she
managed to annoy or piss someone off, probably because they found themselves
feeling inferior or insecure in some way but blaming it on her personality. And
I imagine that she would have taken that as one takes a tiny bug bite on an
otherwise beautiful day, because it would have been their problem if being
around a strong and smart woman made them feel little. Don't get me wrong, my
grandma was never belittling or obnoxious... never pretentious. But she has
lived a lot of life with a lot of family and stories and lessons crammed into
it, and coming out of that with wisdom and a wealth of knowledge, the kind that
only comes from experiences, is nothing to be ashamed of or stifled. It is a
badge. More than that, it is a quality and a treasure. Having both a life that
is full and the ability to understand it all so well that you have a proverbial
vault of knowledge, advice, and insight is what being rich is to me. So, if a
few fell away along the way, it only means that the ones that were still around
as she trucked on were the right ones. Those were the people that were worthy
and deserving of her presence, and in turn, had equal bits of awesome they
could share back to her.
My grandmother has always been strong, independent, and the
rock that I compared myself to when I felt like something might be
insurmountable. She raised 9 kids and none of them came out of it missing
limbs, despite their own best efforts. She worked, she traveled, and she soaks
up the world through an insatiable appetite for reading, trying new things, and
talking to people about anything you can come up with. She is the woman that
warned us never to put her in a home, and made damn sure it would never even be
a consideration, because she just refused to get old. I am pretty sure she
could still walk, kayak, hike, and read circles around me until very recently
in our lifetime.
Her presence when I
was a child changed the way that I perceived everything that would come at me
through the rest of my life. She is the reason I read books instead of watching
TV, or sleeping, even when kids my age were enamored with going to the beach
and Ren and Stimpy cartoons. She is why I questioned things that those around
me seemed to think I should be accepting as status quo. She is why I saw things
for what they were, and why the experiences in my life are more than just
tickers on a tape... why they are events that I took in, broke down, and took
control over. Grandma is why I always
try to look beyond my own bubble, see how my actions are rippling, and try to
understand the motives behind why someone else sent the ripples my way that
they did.
It hadn't occurred to me until yesterday why I get so
defensive when someone might suggest that I tone it down for the sake of those
around me; those that might find my natural state a bit hard to stand up next
to... or at times maybe even in the same room with. I thought that it came
purely from the knowledge that I have gained throughout my life, via
experience, that the only person that gets anything good out of me watering
myself down is the other person, and that I actually come out of things feeling
terrible and small and cramped... like I was somehow trying to fit myself into
a box that was the wrong shape and 40 times too small. But as I looked at the
pillar of a woman that I have known my whole life as someone that would live
forever, and she was frail (well, as frail as that woman can appear to me
anyway) but loved by the good kind of people... that is when once again, my
grandma made me think beyond what I thought I knew. This time, she wasn't even
trying!
I see so much of her in me, and they are the parts of me
that I have always and will always be the utmost proud of. When you ask me for
my qualities, the ones I name with a smile are all of the ones I gave above for
all that my grandmother is. I do not want to be less of those things. I want to
be strong versions of them. I want to know that whatever comes my way is ok,
that I will take it in and learn from it, and that I will give it right back
out onto the world. Unapologetically.
And if that leaves me with a few less warm bodies taking up
the space around me as friends, then I will know that I only have the good ones
left. I will cuss and tease and talk about things I know, and they will love me
for it. I love people and I will always welcome connections with those open to
the same. I will try things and go places; I will meet people. And when I am still running circles around
people half my age at 85 and 90 years old, and only the good ones are still
there, I will know that I have been true to myself always. She taught me to
value that, and I don't think she even knew she was doing it. My grandma is my Dagny Taggart in real life (though a good
bit more cuddly than the character I relate her to), and I know that when she
goes it will be the hardest thing I have had to deal with... not being able to
reread that story and have her there again.
But I will truck on and be strong. It will suck but life
will keep moving, and I will keep living undiluted.
My grandma taught me that.
