The Old Woman

My dad called today.

He asked to speak to me.

Odd.

He wanted to let me know my grandmother died yesterday.

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My grandmother was the closest thing I had to Family, and she was a horrible, cold, miserable bitch to me when I was young. She didn’t have the sunniest disposition… and there were many enemies among her own family and children. I earned her respect through a fight I had with her when I was 12 (or 13). She and my aunt were making nasty comments about The Shrew, and I flipped-out! I stormed into the room where they were talking, and I unleashed my fury like a lunatic… SCREAMING: “STOP TALKING ABOUT HER BEHIND HER BACK!”

I startled them, and myself… especially since I agreed with every word they were saying. I was just so sick and tired of being in the middle of every frigging family fight… I had to do something. So I went to The Source, and went toe-to-toe with the Old Woman.

I was certain she was going to lay-down the law with the wrath of hell on me. So I stood still. Ready to take the final blow, because at that point, I was Done. I had it. I was miserable and lonely and had NO ONE and no where to turn. If I was going-down, I wanted to go down in flames, by the hands that would do it Right. I was terrified of her. So I stood, and I waited, breathing so hard, I couldn’t breathe anymore.

I remember breathing so hard she and my aunt looked at me in a way I never saw them look at me: with worried concern.

That’s all it took.

I buckled, and began to cry. Sob. Howl, actually. I cried like I was never allowed to cry before that time… and it felt good.

I don’t remember what happened after that, I simply remember being accepted and respected by that Old Woman in a way that was never seen before by any extended family member. From that point on, she would make certain every time I was over her house, she had one of my favorite desserts. Ice box cake or Angel’s Food cake. She seemed to prefer the Angel’s Food cake because of an odd ritual that developed over the years.

To make the cake really high and fluffy, she would let it cool upside down on an old glass Brookdale Soda bottle. Nowhere have I ever seen a cake as high or fluffy as hers, anywhere. She swore it was the bottle, and would beam with pride each time she’d saw a big ol’ hunk for me to eat. The moment I had the piece in my hands, I would literally begin to squeeze and squish it between my palms, then pop the flattened pieces into my mouth. I loved the condensed sweetness, and the spark of fake annoyance she had when I did that. No matter what was going on, or who was around, if she had that cake, and I was present, she’d say, “Now watch what Kerry does to my beautiful cake. She RUINS it!” And with that, she’d hand-over the biggest chunk she could slice for me.

It was her wicked little smirk of conspiracy that I savored more than any of the crumbs I had ever been given to eat.

No one in the family was allowed to eat the cake like I did. It was an unspoken Jennie-rule… one I had earned, and one I truly valued.

After I had delivered my first child, my dad told me how proud he was to see I was “just as strong as The Old Woman“. Considering how important it was to my dad I was more like his mother than The Shrew, I purposely did without an epidural just to prove my will to him. His words meant the world to me, because I knew how tough she really was. No question, she was an amazing woman with a tremendous inner strength and courage I have never seen before, or since.

I was given three years during and after nursing school, where someone took good care of me. Once a week she would have lunch made for me at her house, and there I’d spend an hour with her and my grandfather. Those were the times she and my grandfather would tell me stories about their Early Years. Those were the times I felt love around a dinner table. My first year working as an RN my grandfather was put on my floor as a patient, where soon after, he passed-away.

Three years is all it took to become Family to a woman who never wanted me around.

I was the first adopted child in that family.

I was the first to stand-up to The Old Woman.

I was the first to listen to her stories about her relationship with her husband, and the first to hold her so she could cry after he died.

I was the first to make fun or her, and I was the first to make her laugh so hard she spit iced tea out her mouth.

She was the first person I ever loved and respected, and felt like it was returned in equal value.

I learned today I lost my closest Family member.

Today I also realized, I never had one of my own, from the start.

Sleep well Jennie. May We finally rest in peace.