It was at about this same time last year when I kept thinking I saw her. Out of the corner of my eye I would get a glimpse but when I would turn ... nothing. Yesterday it happened again while I was perusing the Christmas isles at a local store. Something in the curve of the woman's small-boned shoulder and the tiny, impractical slipper-like ballet shoes she was wearing despite the cool December air, momentarily tricked my brain into believing my Grandmother was a mere few feet from me. But, of course, she wasn't, and when the second passed, along with its little bit of magic, the elderly woman, feeling my eyes on her, glanced over. I offered up a half-smile, hastily returned the forgotten ornament I clutched in my hand to its hook and fled the store, completely shaken.
I suppose it is only natural that my mind would conjure up thoughts of Grandma Elaine so frequently come Christmastime. After all, every Christmas day was spent at her house as a child, and some of my best holiday memories were made there... ALWAYS with Grandma as the central figure. I still remember the family opening presents from each other after dinner (which tended to be a chaotic affair .... picture a huge circle of chairs....aunts, uncles and a gang of my cousins all tearing into gifts and you get the idea) and Grandma and Grandpa sitting, watching it all with huge grins on their faces. Looking back now I am sure I have idealized it some, but truthfully, it was pretty ideal.
Last Christmas I cried when my first holiday card came in the mail and with it the realization that no longer would I receive one from my Grandmother. This week (after sudden inspiration) I dug in my hope chest and pulled out a bag of cherished cards I have saved over the years given to me by loved ones. Sure enough several of the cards were from her. For some reason it was comforting to see her signature there on the paper, still declaring her love.
Grandpa spent this past Christmas without my Grandma. This year they will not be apart. And as I decorate my house, bake my holiday cookies, write out my Christmas cards, wrap my gifts, and read Christmas stories to Isabelle, I know my mind will turn to them both again and again. And that's okay because as I am making my new traditions I want to also remember to embrace the old ones and weave them into this family tapestry for Isabelle. Then, with any luck, maybe someday, she too, will look back on parts of her childhood as "pretty ideal." Merry Christmas, Grandma and Grandpa.
No comments:
Post a Comment