August 2nd marks the sixth year you’ve been gone. It’s also Mum’s birthday, and every year since, we’ve celebrated her birthday in the weeks after instead. We joke now and say that even when leaving us, you made sure to leave your mark, a statement of some sort.
You never walked into a room to be left unnoticed, and you also never had to say a word. As a little girl, I watched people turn their necks when you walked down the street. Even well into your 70’s defying the doctors’s orders to stop wearing stiletto heels. (You’d simply convert to thicker heels in your 80’s and thank God eventually to flats.) You wouldn’t listen to us, and we couldn’t say a thing because you just made things work and proved everyone against all odds, even when the odds were 88% against your favor when your heart gave out and you had a stroke.
I don’t know if I agree with every single lesson you imparted on me growing up but I think that’s exactly what you’d have wanted me to do- to question authority, rules and systems. You’d want me to stay open and true to myself, just as you were.
You were bartered off to be raised and married to a son of a “decent family,” and instead, you created chaos, called him out to be a complete asshole, and ran away (somehow). You turned nothing to your own empire. We later found out that the same son you were supposed to marry ended up being an abusive alcoholic and gambler, so you dodged a bullet. You dodged many bullets, actually.
You were admired, revered, and also feared in the best and worst ways. You lived a hard life but didn’t crack—refused to. It didn’t make you the kindest person, but it made you the most resilient. I observed the goodness left in you and the ways hardship can leave a person cruel. But you adored me, and you were the one person who always adored me, even at times when life made me cruel.
Growing up, when others said my lack of voice would make me weak and nimble, you’d ignore their entire presence and say no, this one is special. And I won’t ever know if it’s because I internalized that growing up and wanted to prove it to you or because you had some clairvoyant way of “just knowing” or if you simply just hoped it to be true- but I take all the moments of your adoration and belief in me everywhere I go.
i think she knew
This is a beautiful piece and a great way to honor your grandmother. I have no doubt she would be proud of you and the things you are doing. Thank you for sharing.