Helen Benton Brown
I said goodbye to my grandmother Friday. She died May 1, 2017 after ninety three years. Two days ago, June 30, 2017, we had a graveside service for her. Nothing fancy. Just family. My mother’s touching eulogy and the tribute from the U.S. Coast Guard with whom she served in WWII were bookended with brief prayers.
She would have liked it. Especially that the storms paused and the clouds parted for her memorial. I can imagine her tickled expression and her infectious laughter.
Afterwards we lunched. It was lovely to see everyone. But today I’m carrying a cloud over my head not just about losing such a merry woman and grandmother, but about having not seen her and everyone more often. Now that both grandparents, my uncle Tom and my dear aunt Autumn are all gone, it’s too late. I worry that it’s like trying to say goodbye on the phone when you’ve already been disconnected. On your end of the conversation you may think all is well, but when you pause for the reply, it’s just static and empty air.
My mom’s side of the family were/are a geographically distant clan spanning the entirety of the continental U.S. (WA, CA, SD, TX, NY, FL, IN), and none of us were ever wealthy enough to cross those distances regularly. Thus the times we do gather should be all that more precious. Still as I scan for photos, I find so few. Not only because of the infrequency of the assemblies, but because while we are enmeshed in a get together it feels like we’ve never been apart – it fails to feel rare. Yesterday we gabbed as if it hasn’t been 15 years since the last time we all sat down together. A few photos were taken, but mostly because Carrie (my cousin/(sister)-in-law) made an effort to memorialize it.
Writing this, I wonder if geography and time simply fail to separate us. Perhaps it’s not empty static. Perhaps this family’s wavelength’s frequency runs long and low. Other families may not be able to decipher the signal, but we can. Perhaps this is not something to mourn but something to celebrate.
I can imagine my grandmother laughing and loving that notion.