I am so glad I did that. Dont suppose glad is really even the right word, but theres a warm and sorrowful little glow right now that I am feeling regarding the conversation I had bedside with Gram last week.
Im back in Vancouver, been here almost a week still with no internet, so I am still only able to type these updates somewhere and quickly log in, post and run. Sorry I havent been able to respond to anybody but Im still here, quick lemur lurking when I can and
Im flyin back to Alberta tomorrow to bear some pauls apparently.
They figured her health was holding out ok, that theyd run some more tests in a couple months to find out exactly how aggressive those little cancer fuckers were. There only real concern was that dementia.
The dementia that had her speaking about things that nobody could understand, that everybody would smile and nod to, and that would keep her silent for a while after the last condescending nod.
The night after she had told me about the heidecker boy coming to visit her I had gone back to my Aunts house and was looking through one of the many photo albums she had put together over the years. This one album I had picked up went waaay back, starting in the late 1800s with Grandma and Grandpas grim lookin parents not smiling at the man under the black tarp with the flashpan. Id never seen that shot before and didnt know who those people were.
Then there were grainy and washed out shots of a baby girl sitting in the dirt outside of a wood paneled house, odd for the era due to the big smile the baby had.
Thats your Gram says my aunt.
Weird.
I flipped through page after of these old pics as they progressed through time and there was a pic of two rather svelte looking kids standing on a dusty street beside what appeared to be an old store. The girl was in a plain looking dress, and the guy wore a regular pair of pants, suspenders and a fedora sorta hat. Neither one of them smiling.
Thats there wedding picture. You know they eloped eh?
I knew that, I remembered that story. My Grandmas parents thought my grandfather was a neer-do-well that would never go anywhere or do anything. The story went on to explain how after the wedding ceremony, Grandpa took all the money he had made from his days of riding the rails and breaking wild horses for farmers and ranchers along the way, and bought a small plot of land. Then he bought a single rail car, and using a team of horses he and Gram dragged this rail car out onto this chunk of prairie.
Home is where the heart is.
I remember stories being told of Grandpa out there in the middle of winter, shooting prairie chickens with his 22 for food, while Gram was in the railcar scrubbing the floors. I remember her telling me that she would have to be real fast with the floor scrubbing else the water would freeze in the puddles. All rather incredulous, but here were a few sepia toned snaps of proof.
In another picture there was a woman standing beside an old 1935 Ford Coupe.
whats with the old car? I ask my Aunt.
Oh, they won that car somehow, brand new
The next day, going back into the hospital, I thought about the smiles and nods from the day before and made a point of going back to the time with Gram, going back to when she thought it still was. I asked her about the picture of the car.
Oh my god did she ever light up. She told me the whole story clearly, as if it was yesterday.
Her and Grampa had some canned bean product that they sold at the store, (long since had they moved off the prairie and into a house, planning a family and owning this business) and for one month there was a raffle being held for all the retailers selling the beans. Well, they won that durned car. Grandpa could barely contain himself. Well they drove up together to Edmonton to pick it up and Ill be darned if Grandpa could find his way to where they where to pick up the car
It was amazing to see her so lit up like that, she was on fire. After she told me the whole story she seemed so much calmer than she had been and she fell asleep.
Interesting thing, memory, the mind I really wonder what goes on there.
Anyways, my Aunt was in to see her yesterday and Gram told her to get the family together. Something was up. hour after my cousin showed up at the bedside, Gram stopped breathing.
I remember the cemetery out in Castor. Its only been a couple years since we put Grandpa there, on the other side of the tracks was his euphemism for it. He used to say that most of his old friends are all on the other side of the tracks now. And it is. It is the other side of the tracks from the main town and the grain elevators.
It was the epitome of a clich prairie winter day that day of his funeral, and I found it almost cheesy with the blowing snow, the skeletal trees lining the tombstones, and the amount of crows that were lined up in the trees. If it was a movie set the audience would have taken one look at it and said oh COME ON at the obvious overkill of cinematic atmospherics. as IF!
The funerals on Saturday afternoon. Im a pall bearer, and really happy to have been lucky enough to be out there last week.
Im bringin a toque this time.
Im back in Vancouver, been here almost a week still with no internet, so I am still only able to type these updates somewhere and quickly log in, post and run. Sorry I havent been able to respond to anybody but Im still here, quick lemur lurking when I can and
Im flyin back to Alberta tomorrow to bear some pauls apparently.
They figured her health was holding out ok, that theyd run some more tests in a couple months to find out exactly how aggressive those little cancer fuckers were. There only real concern was that dementia.
The dementia that had her speaking about things that nobody could understand, that everybody would smile and nod to, and that would keep her silent for a while after the last condescending nod.
The night after she had told me about the heidecker boy coming to visit her I had gone back to my Aunts house and was looking through one of the many photo albums she had put together over the years. This one album I had picked up went waaay back, starting in the late 1800s with Grandma and Grandpas grim lookin parents not smiling at the man under the black tarp with the flashpan. Id never seen that shot before and didnt know who those people were.
Then there were grainy and washed out shots of a baby girl sitting in the dirt outside of a wood paneled house, odd for the era due to the big smile the baby had.
Thats your Gram says my aunt.
Weird.
I flipped through page after of these old pics as they progressed through time and there was a pic of two rather svelte looking kids standing on a dusty street beside what appeared to be an old store. The girl was in a plain looking dress, and the guy wore a regular pair of pants, suspenders and a fedora sorta hat. Neither one of them smiling.
Thats there wedding picture. You know they eloped eh?
I knew that, I remembered that story. My Grandmas parents thought my grandfather was a neer-do-well that would never go anywhere or do anything. The story went on to explain how after the wedding ceremony, Grandpa took all the money he had made from his days of riding the rails and breaking wild horses for farmers and ranchers along the way, and bought a small plot of land. Then he bought a single rail car, and using a team of horses he and Gram dragged this rail car out onto this chunk of prairie.
Home is where the heart is.
I remember stories being told of Grandpa out there in the middle of winter, shooting prairie chickens with his 22 for food, while Gram was in the railcar scrubbing the floors. I remember her telling me that she would have to be real fast with the floor scrubbing else the water would freeze in the puddles. All rather incredulous, but here were a few sepia toned snaps of proof.
In another picture there was a woman standing beside an old 1935 Ford Coupe.
whats with the old car? I ask my Aunt.
Oh, they won that car somehow, brand new
The next day, going back into the hospital, I thought about the smiles and nods from the day before and made a point of going back to the time with Gram, going back to when she thought it still was. I asked her about the picture of the car.
Oh my god did she ever light up. She told me the whole story clearly, as if it was yesterday.
Her and Grampa had some canned bean product that they sold at the store, (long since had they moved off the prairie and into a house, planning a family and owning this business) and for one month there was a raffle being held for all the retailers selling the beans. Well, they won that durned car. Grandpa could barely contain himself. Well they drove up together to Edmonton to pick it up and Ill be darned if Grandpa could find his way to where they where to pick up the car
It was amazing to see her so lit up like that, she was on fire. After she told me the whole story she seemed so much calmer than she had been and she fell asleep.
Interesting thing, memory, the mind I really wonder what goes on there.
Anyways, my Aunt was in to see her yesterday and Gram told her to get the family together. Something was up. hour after my cousin showed up at the bedside, Gram stopped breathing.
I remember the cemetery out in Castor. Its only been a couple years since we put Grandpa there, on the other side of the tracks was his euphemism for it. He used to say that most of his old friends are all on the other side of the tracks now. And it is. It is the other side of the tracks from the main town and the grain elevators.
It was the epitome of a clich prairie winter day that day of his funeral, and I found it almost cheesy with the blowing snow, the skeletal trees lining the tombstones, and the amount of crows that were lined up in the trees. If it was a movie set the audience would have taken one look at it and said oh COME ON at the obvious overkill of cinematic atmospherics. as IF!
The funerals on Saturday afternoon. Im a pall bearer, and really happy to have been lucky enough to be out there last week.
Im bringin a toque this time.
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
greenxxghostie:
it sounds as if yyour grandma passed in a really nice state of mind...being reminded of something in her life that meant alot to her and could bring a smile to her face. i sometimes wonder about that moment of dying, if it's anything like the "set and setting" theory on LSD that (i think) Timothy leary talked alot about; he was taliking about a drug experience and how your state of mind at the beginning of the experience can affect and influence your entire experience-i don't know exactly what i mean, but like, if you die while in a certain mindset, especially if it is positive, could that open your spirit up somehow to all the incredible richness, both beautiful and ugly, of life and death? i think i might be babbling a little, but you're journal entry just sent my mind in a few different directions! I've always found death as a concept to be fairly simple; you live and so you must die. case closed. Of course, when someone close to you passes away, it makes that simplicity become profoundly awe-inspiring. 
josephene:
Wow...beautifully written sadness...I found myself feeling right along with you. Thank you for sharing this with us. I hope the sadness breaks a bit for a beam of celebration of the long life of memories that your Grandma experienced. Simply beautiful tribute.