Sunday, April 29, 2012

Our Perfect Day

Peggy Manning (a.k.a. Grandma)
December 17, 1915 - April 10, 2012

Grandma took me on a special outing one day when I was 10. We didn’t necessarily go anyplace exotic. Then again, we could be almost anywhere and have such a wonderful time. As I’m sure you all know any time spent with her was very special. But this particular instance I remember fondly as our prefect day.

I probably shouldn’t confess this, but Grandma and I could have entire conversations just exchanging glances back and forth across a room. It was almost as if we had a little joke going between us, which we never let anyone in on. Of course, that seemed to make the game even that much funnier to us both, and we’d laugh despite ourselves. I’d like to think of us in that way as kindred spirits, kind of rascally ones who just got such a kick out of one another, as she would’ve put it.

Anyway, it wasn’t until 27 years later, during this profound time of remembrance, that I even thought to give special prominence to our perfect day, a few magical moments in time we stole together, just the two of us. This was a rare occurrence considering how many adoring people Grandma had in her life to spend time with each and every day.

Certainly at 10 years old I scarcely had a thought in the world about the eventual finality of life. I regarded that time with her, as special as it always was, also as granted, and felt entitled to always have my Grandma near me.

Though I’m sure it was late summer, the day of our special outing felt much like spring, which may explain why the memory of it recently came rushing back to me. The weather was pleasantly warm, well for Western Washington anyway, with crystal blue skies and big, puffy clouds sailing overhead.

Grandma took me to Kirkland’s Park Place Cinema where we saw Places in the Heart. This was by no means a light-hearted story, but it was real, an honest portrayal, and it moved us both nevertheless. We squeezed each others’ hand through the sad parts and smiled at each other through the joyful parts. Such is a wonderful life surrounded by those who care.

The film takes place during the depression era. The main character, a widow, struggles to keep her home and family with the help of a disparate group of friends. Even at the time it dawned on me how much Grandma must have related to this film. Perhaps in some context, parts of her life, or better yet her dear mother’s life, were playing out on the silver screen right before her very, beautiful blue eyes.

Every person faces certain life struggles. Albeit, life isn’t about the challenges as much as it is about how we overcome them.

Grandma overcame her many life challenges, the least of which were financial in nature, with a strong sense of dignity and self worth. Arguably, her greatest challenges were her body’s eventual physical limitations, which she gallantly battled for several decades. Even when she lost her skilled knack for conversation, she would look at you with profound adoration and just say, "I love you." 

Like the graceful trooper she always was, she persevered so long for all of us as much as we wanted her to remain here and be with us all for as long as possible. I am certain she knew this. She was our matriarch, who for so long kept our family together. I’m sure she felt she had so much to keep fighting for.

During my own life challenges to accept and love myself for who I am and who I am not, she would always say to me, “I just want you to be happy.” If only everyone could model Grandma’s way of being, what an extraordinary world we could all aspire to enjoy in full self expression.

Even more important than overcoming our life challenges is acknowledging that which enables us to rise to the occasion, so-to-speak. In a word, it’s love. Simple as that. It’s just pure, 100 percent, honest-to-goodness, unconditional love free of judgment. Love is patient and kind. Love is forgiving. Love is essential. Love is never-ending.

On our perfect day, Grandma took me by a hobby shop and bought me a small model jet fighter, the kind requiring a bit of assembly. We then took my new toy and our lunch to a waterfront park on Lake Washington Boulevard. We sat together at a small, square picnic table by the shore and ate our sandwiches. The water was a solid, true blue on that day, as was the sky, as were her loving eyes. I pieced together my model while we chatted, smiling fondly at one another. Both of us were so happy and perfectly content. Honestly, I could’ve easily lived in that moment for a lifetime.

Throughout her lifetime, Grandma continued to evolve and nurture. Through what I had once thought of as some of my life’s greatest failures, even when she was well into her 90’s, she would say to me, “Only time will tell …”

I learned two important lessons from her wise words. The first is to just live in the moment. The second is to never curse your bad luck until you’re certain it’s not good luck.

During our last visit, which also was on a day much like our perfect day, I pointed out to her we were both wearing my favorite color, orange. She smiled in an approving manner and let out a little chuckle. I knew it was time for us to be complete with one another in this life. This was my intention for this visit.

I was fortunate enough to share with her my sincere happiness with my life; just the way it is and just the way it isn’t. Even bed-ridden, her whole face lit up as if she had just had her own, heart-felt epiphany. After all, this is what she told me she had always wanted for me. I know she wanted this for all her beloved. Such a selfless, giving and dare I say feisty soul.

Incidentally, I had also thought to ask her if she was comfortable. She nodded and very audibly repeated the word comfortable. I thought you would all want to know this.

About a month ago I saw my Grandma in a dream. I called my mom the next day to share this with her. In my dream she and I were blowing out candles together. Suddenly I was trying to help her navigate through an awkward house, which wasn’t at all right for her. I told my mom I knew Grandma didn’t have much time. Mom agreed.

I believe it was divinely guided Grandma passed on my birthday at just about the same time of day I came into the world. I had also planned to see her at that very time on Tuesday. Strangely ironic as it may seem, life delayed me.

Symbolism from my dream in hindsight appears to me now much more like foresight. Maybe there is some mystical design, and our company in life is somehow cosmically preassigned. Either way, I always expressed to her how lucky I was to have her as my Grandma, including at our last visit, despite feeling so entitled to her most of my life. Looking back, I’ve been an especially blessed person for such a long time to have had her with me all these years.

While I would do just about anything to have one more perfect day with my Grandma here on Earth, my heart knows we’re on the same path and we shall meet again. Until then, I willfully and respectfully let her go in peace to journey on with me in spirit. I will also from here forward honor April 10th as just one of many of our perfect days together. Grandma, I love you with all my heart and soul; always, now and forever more …