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Monday, October 26, 2009
My Inner Grandma
Sometimes I'm just not sure what to make of the mystery of it all.
Things that make sense to me might be cold comfort or trite to others. I can't make sense of why someone gets cancer, and why others like Bernie Madoff do not. Not that I'm saying I want that man to get cancer, but I'm just using him as a reference for justice/injustice. I just know that I'm so happy my good friend survived and triumphed over breast cancer, but my heart goes out to those who lose loved ones.
I'm a creature of meaning. That's kind of like a creature of habit, but my habit is searching for meaning. Meaning makes my life breathe. I'm not interested in proof, just understanding. I will look for meaning, because to me, living my life without seeing the meaningfulness is empty. So I choose to find meaning, rather than chaos.
I look at someone like B's wonderful Nana.
She's 93, I believe. This woman inspires me. I wish she didn't live so far away. She has lost a husband and siblings, and she accepts whatever life tosses her way, and comes up grateful. It seems to me that maybe she decided long ago that it wasn't important to understand everything, and to embrace the world for what it is without taking it personally and becoming a victim. I think we need the wisdom of those elders who not only survive but thrive and flourish. Imagine a woman who is full of life and you hear the color and laughter in her voice when she speaks... that's B's Nana. I'm not saying she isn't human; I'm saying her attitude about people and life is one of the healthiest I can think of.
My own grandmothers are long gone.
One was a mean-spirited bible-thumper who contracted Alzheimer's, and the other drank her liver to death. So I'm afraid matriarchal wisdom does not run in my family.
My own mom turns 80 in a week, a grandma several times over, and has never quite understood people or life. I'm constantly trying to help her understand the motives and choices of others. I realized last week after a very small "altercation" with her, that I have never actually heard her say the words "I was wrong." Or even gestures that represent it. She equates being wrong with being bad or lesser than, so she can never be wrong. Luckily, she has a very generous heart, so she's never abusive with it. But she's never quite figured out that being wrong is just human, and we're all wrong once in a while. Being wrong makes you not only human, but empathetic and sympathetic, and that gracefully acknowledging it gives those around you the freedom to be themselves.
The photo above hangs in my kitchen; it makes me smile.I found it a travel brochure for Germany. Someone got to have that grandma with that smile and those crinkly eyes and those big soft arms. In my mind, she smells like lavender and cake batter. I hope she is or was as fun as she looks.
I didn't get that grandma this time, but I'm starting to realize she's my "inner grandma." She's that voice in my head that tells me that I don't have to understand all of life to find meaning. That, if I embrace the world for what it is, instead of constantly being disappointed in what the world is not, that I will be happier. Perhaps like B's Nana.
~Shephard :)
Labels: Of Mice and Mondays
posted by Shephard @ 