Thinking back, I remember how every now and then my grandmother would suggest I was involved in something totally out of place for somebody like me. Surprised by her accusations, I would want to laugh but couldn't because I'd be dumbfounded how this puritan woman ever conceived of such an idea. A church-going woman with God on her lips and a rosary in her hand, thinking things like that? Grandma, I have such confused feelings about you. Could you come, sit here by me so we can talk?
Grandma, you gave me so many good things. You were one of the most determined and strong women I know. You raised eight children and helped in the raising of many of your grandchildren. We all speak of you with such fondness, each having a wonderful memory of the things you showed or taught or gave us. Yet you died all alone on the floor of a nursing home. Why do you think that is?
I don't know. Eight children and none of them had room for me in their home?
Some of your daughters even took in their husband's mothers and cared for them. Doesn't that surprise you?
They probably did it for the same reasons I did the things I did, to please their husbands.
Why was that so important to you?
Women need their men.
Women need men, but only when they are good persons. No woman needs a man who is damaged. He will only introduce that damage into the lives of those around him. I guess you never realized that.
I was what I was. Isn't that what I heard you tell your kids a little while ago?
Yes, and my mother was what she was. But I am trying to become more than who I am. I am trying to become who I can be.
What is that supposed to mean?
There is an energy in life that seeks a higher purpose than self. When you try to harness that energy and direct it where it does not belong, you destroy the joy of life and bring about anger, resentment, depression, sadness. When we wanted to love others we were told we had to love Grandpa first. When we wanted to serve others we were told we must serve Mother first. When we wanted to learn and grow we were held down by chains of loyalty and guilt. It was all wrong.
It is good that you have learned all this in spite of me, honey.
Are you being snotty now Grandma?
I am dead and gone from your life, and still you fight me?
No one is ever dead and gone. Your deeds live on in those who were in any way a part of your life. It has taken me a long time, but I am finally coming to grips with some things that have bothered me. Hurt can take place even in the most loving of relationships.
What matters is that you live what you truly believe. That is what you will take to your final moment.
Your final moment was on the floor of a nursing home on your way back from the bathroom.
I know. They said I should call for help when I was done.
And did you? Did you call for help and no one came, or did they not come fast enough for you? Or were you just sick and tired of being dependent on people and decided to take your life into your own hands?
Why do you want to know this?
I want to know what you felt in that last moment.
So you won't feel guilty?
So I won't feel sad.
Why would you feel sad? You talk about life being a journey each person must make alone.
But, Grandma, you had eight children. As much as some of them resented your hold on their life, they all talk about your constant care: their little white shoes you scrubbed and polished every Saturday night for Sunday morning church; their clothes always washed and starched and pressed without one single crease anywhere; their food, from cornmeal mush during the Depression to the abundant holiday feasts later on. After we left home we all still dropped by whenever we could because you made your home a wonderful place to be. Why did none of your children make that kind of a home for you when you grew old and frail?
Because I never grew frail. At least not in their mind. Your children will feel the same about you.
You know, Grandma, you're right about that. You and I are strong and determined women — probably even willful! These things keep me moving in the direction I want to go.
Do you know how it will end for you?
No. Perhaps that is why I have come to this place. I want to determine the ending also. I want to die the way I lived, strong and with purpose. I don't want death to visit me like a fearsome stranger. I want to walk confidently into that final moment.
Just the way I did — heading out of that bathroom all on my own in spite of the warnings.
But it sounds so undignified. I want to be doing something noble, like protesting something or setting an example of great courage. You know, a story that can be retold with pride.
The circumstances of my death have made you ashamed of me?
No, of me.
So that is why you attempted to make me a villain, so you can then tell the story of my death without shame...as if I deserved my final moment?
Yes.
Then tell my story that way.
I did.
And what happened?
You were on the other side of the door when I called out.
So what have you decided is behind that door?
All the lies and doubts and misconceptions of my life.
What have you determined, then, is truth in my life?
I don't know. Only you know.
That's correct.
I can only know for sure what I saw and heard and, most importantly, felt in my heart.
And what did you feel in your heart about me?
I loved you Grandma, in spite of all the devotion you demanded of us and all your foolish accusations and silly notions. You were the most influential person in my life. I have your strength and determination as well as your willful ways. Your energy and perfection were an inspiration to me. But you were very weak and wrong in your approach to men. I had to suffer a great deal to change that within me because I took your notions out into the world and made some serious mistakes, hurt some people who were entrusted to my care. You did that part all wrong, Grandma.
But you recovered.
Yes, I did, because I worked so hard at it. I felt there was something wonderful inside of me and all around me, but I couldn't put it together, make it work, unless I moved some of those attitudes out of the way. So I guess I took the strength I got from you and used it to work out the weakness I also got from you.
That sounds like the way it should be.
It does, doesn't it? You can go now, Grandma. I will be just fine.
But she didn't leave; she is with me still, and what a wonderful feeling that is.