...moms, spiders, and a widowmaker...

I’ve been thinking of my grandma a lot lately. 

It’s a bit odd since she died when I was in fifth grade. We were closer than many granddaughters are with their grandmothers. I had the luxury of my grandparents living about 30 minutes away. Each and every Sunday of my youth was spent at my grandparent’s farm. She was the absolute center of our family, the one who kept us all together. She was an amazing cook. No wonder I’m vegetarian; no one would be able to make corn beef like my grandmother. No one!

I think about her from time to time because I often wear her wedding diamond that I had reset a few years back. I’m named after her although I never hear that name unless I’m in trouble and my mother uses my first and middle name. 

I look just like her. When I shared this picture of my grandparents (Louise & Porter) in the summer of 1938, I’ve received responses that it’s me and that I’m immortal. She was 22 in this picture. She was only 69 when she passed away. The thing I remember most is her smile. I no longer recall the sound of her voice. I hardly recall her in the kitchen. But, I remember that smile.

This week has been very troubling. My fella’s mom has a widowmaker heart attack. Per the doctor, only half of those who have this type of heart attack survive.  My fella is stoic and calm; I’ve been bawling my eyes out. Moms are supposed to live forever…even when families are dysfunctional, even when they make you nuts, even when (fill in the blank). I know several of my readers have lost their mothers/ mommies/ mums/ mummas. I CANNOT imagine it…so I cry.

Yesterday I spent most of the day in the ICU with my fella, his sister, and his mom. I didn’t cry in front of her. Okay, maybe a little bit but that was only because she was able to talk and I started asking questions about her late husband (my fella’s father) and even her mother who lived to 100 years 6 months. That’s the norm in my fella’s mom’s family. She, in fact, is the baby at 82. Her siblings are 84, 86 , and 92 (I believe I have that right). She talked about her mother who, in the end, died from cancer at 100 yrs and 6 months. She asked her mom, “Mumma, how does it feel to have cancer in you?” Her mother responded, “Honey, I’ve got to die from something.” My fella’s mom followed up by saying, “Mumma taught me how to live and she also taught me how to die”… but not just yet please.

My fella’s mom came from a rural area of Tennessee… but oh the places she has gone and oh what she has seen. She has been to every continent except Antarctica and that’s only because a few years back her trip was scheduled and there was an accident so the tour company canceled her trip. Several years back, she told me that if her husband hadn’t died she probably would have never traveled the world. He wanted her to do these things. That reminds me so much of the end of the movie Titanic when we get to see Rose’s life in pictures.  Here is my fella’s mom lying in the ICU with a weak and fragile body… but there’s still that spirit!

Did I mention that she called 911 herself? And because she’s of the generation that one must be wearing clean clothing, she changed her clothing in the middle of having a heart attack! Oy.

Widowmaker... she's already a widow! Here is a video of one of my favorite Christmas presents from her a few years ago.  A Christmas tarantula... you got to love that.

 

She's one of the only ones who remembers the story of my last name and its connection to spiders.

It’s hard to wrap my head around her future adventures because this hospital with this ICU is where my grandmother passed away when I was little. I can still point to the window of the room where it all happened.

Hospitals are scary and sad places. I do not care for them at all. Mothers/ mommies/ mums/ mummas should not be there :'(