Unless I’m mistaken this page will officially go up on the 23 which will be one year since my grandmother passed. I never really sat down and thought about everything she was to me, or my family. Basically my entire life was defined by her in one way or another. Not just her, but the impact of how our entire family obeyed certain rules was quite overarching. I’m sure some of you have matriarchal family structures and already understand what I mean. It’s sort of hard to explain because to me it’s sort of part of how the world is supposed to work. Even though if I think about it I rationally know it isn’t.
Trying to sum her up for a blog post is daunting. It feels disrespectful in a way. Where do you even start? My first conscious memory is of being with her. Sitting on the floor of her car, playing with a little wind up crab. She isn’t even in the memory itself, I just know that she’s there to my right side. There are just too many stories.
At one time she and my mother started a crafting shop in the little town where she lived. My sister and I went there with mom one day. We had grandma listen to Baby Got Back to see her reaction to it. We laughed so much over how surprised she was by the blatant lyrics.
She had a weak stomach and basically everyone delighted is trying to see how close we could get her to throwing up without her actually doing it. Even things like fake vomit or fake dog poop could do it. Things that most people wouldn’t react to at all.
She was obsessed with Christmas. The degree to which Christmas is a thing in our family was ridiculous compared to other people. I only found this out later in life though. I had always assumed that it was super important to everyone. There were so many levels to our traditions. Things that had to be done a certain way. Prescribed rituals that needed to be observed that came, apparently, from nowhere in particular other than my great grandmother. It really hurt me when I got sick to the point that I couldn’t take part in that stuff like when I was younger.
For years she made custom Santa Claus dolls for people out of her craft trailer. Very slowly, but eventually she made them. There were unfinished parts in her stuff… She and mom did that for such a long time. It was a huge deal. There were so many versions of the process and things they learned and changed over time. Different materials. Piles of furs and fabrics, little bells, tiny toys, a whole riggamorole of parts, pieces, and process. She was convinced that she was going to get back to her craft studio someday. She was going to get better again and go right back to making things.
This is so surface level. I could sit here writing all night and I’d never even get close to the minutia that made up my grandmother. The complex set of rules she set up that we all had to abide by in her presence. Rules that got more and more lax with each grandchild after me. I was the only one to live through the first ruleset. My sister and two of my cousins remember version 1.2. That was the version for a long time.
I dunno. I guess I should quit and just let the page go live. Everyone builds up these wounds as life goes on. Where she was is one of mine now. It’s not a scar yet, it still itches. It’s a deep one and it’s going to hurt and itch for a long time probably. It’s not a bug, it’s a feature.
Anyway, I’ll see you guys on Wednesday. Hopefully I’ll get the page up on time.

Posts authored by Jackie

2468 Be Normal.