A Treasure in the Unexpected

A year ago, I spent much of my days during the winter with my grandmother.  This is a woman I have always felt that I know a lot about.  I know her hobbies, what annoys her, the way she stews and frets over the situations her family finds themselves in, the tragedies she has faced, her unfinished goals, and the fact that she would probably not like it one bit if she knew I was writing about her.

I practically grew up in her home.  We lived two miles away, but moved in for a long time after our house burned down, and spent many days and nights there even after our new house was built while my mother helped care for my grandfather.

When I moved away to California against the wishes of most of my family, including her, she signed a card that she sent to me with the word “love.”  That was assumed, but seeing it in writing was unexpected.  “I love you,” was not something we often said aloud.

When I moved in with my boyfriend against my family’s wishes, I knew how she felt about it, but the way she honestly expressed her opinion to me without chastising me like a child was unexpected.  She also listened and tried to understand my decision.

I spent the winter with her sharing many expected, familiar, and comforting things, like cheese melted over the cauliflower, concern for each other’s well-being, crocheted doilies, watering the plants, and a shared sense of humor.

She also shared many unexpected things with me.  I spent many conversations with her learning about her childhood, early-married life, the confidence she was forced to find as an Army wife, the frustrations she faced with in-laws and new babies, and the indescribable loss of her twin sister to cancer.

I already knew most of these things from a historical standpoint, but I didn’t know them from her emotional point of view.

I also learned that we enjoyed the same television shows and books, but would never admit it to each other.  We would never want each other to know that were interested in the lives of characters so directly opposite of us.  Still, spending hours together each day laughing at the same jokes and reacting similarly to stories or situations can be very telling!

Reflecting back on all that I learned that winter, I have come to the realization that I was not just learning my grandmother’s history, feelings and secret quirks.  I was looking in a mirror.  In her, I was learning about myself.

Was she setting this example and revealing these tidbits to me on purpose?  I have no doubt that she is aware of the lessons I need to learn from her and has been conveying them to me in her own way.

“Don’t be like me,” she has said aloud.

From a quiet, simple woman who prefers to stay home and engage in calm activities, I have been introduced very strongly to the concept of stepping out of my comfort zone and speaking up.  I have seen that confidence in her that she never displays, and though I completely understand why she keeps it to herself, I also understand that she showed it to me because I need it.  That was unexpected.

While we spoke of other things, without word or action, she instilled in me the very thing that will help me be the woman I need to be in this life, and the woman she hopes I am; perhaps even the woman she wishes that she could have been.

Still, I don’t think either one of us would change a thing about her.