A Life Well-Lived

The thing that strikes me most about my Grandmother, right now, is how much influence she had.

It is easy to see the effect that someone has on your own life, but sometimes it takes more to see the influence that they have on everyone else.

My grandmother was not a celebrity. You would not have known her name, or her face. But she touched lives in ways that I never knew, until I attended her funeral service.

The viewing was awful. I will not go into detail, but I could only take one quick glance before I had to look away. Because the body lying in the casket, was not my Grandmother. It didn’t look like her. It didn’t have her essence. It was just an object, really, and I sincerely wished that it was not there, so that we could be free to remember the woman that we knew.

I deliberately sat near the back, away from where most of the family was seated. There were a few reasons for this, not the least of which was the fact that the coffin was up at the front. I also felt like I did not want hundreds of eyes on me as I said good-bye to one of the women that gave me life. It may have been seen as a sign of disrespect, but I grieve better alone.

Once the service started, I forgot about the casket, and focused on the words of those who had been asked to speak. My Grandma had had an effect on each of them.

For me, she was the fun, spunky, comforting woman who had lived with me when I was young. One of my oldest memories is of walking down the street, holding her hand. I was always thrilled when she came to visit, or on the rare occasions that I had the chance to visit her in Jamaica. I remember her endless energy–how me, a young, healthy girl of 12 could not even keep up with her as she strode through the market place, buying fresh foods and hand-made goods. I work out so that when I am seventy, I can be as strong as she was then.

My Grandmother beat the odds. She was supposed to have heart surgery thirty-five years ago, but refused and instead opted to treat her heart disease with medication. The fact that she lived another thirty-five years is a testament to her drive and will.

I was not sure how many people would show up to pay their respects to my Grandmother. We have a large family so I knew the count would be over one hundred, but I was amazed to see how packed the church was. They had to pull out chairs from the Sunday school room and put them in the aisles, which I’m sure was a fire-code violation, but that is how far her influence ranged. I hope that when I am gone, it will be discovered that I touched many more lives than I ever realized.

Listening to my cousins and aunts speak, brought revelations. My Grandmother was something different to each of us. Our relationships with her depended on what each of us needed. She was a place to hide away when things weren’t going well. She put some of us through college, and provided a home for both relatives and friends who had fallen on hard times. She attended the high school graduations of children whose education she’d paid for in Jamaica, and would beam and declare “That’s my boy!” or “That’s my girl!” when it was their turn to accept their diplomas.

Around her neighbourhood, she was known simply as “Grandma.” She did not need to be blood to be family. Her love was limitless, and though she was not a wealthy woman by any means, she still found a way to help those who had even less than she did.

She was amazing. I am sad that she’s gone, but I understand that nobody can be around forever. It pains me that I will not see or talk to her again, but I am grateful. I am so grateful for the moments I had with her. I am grateful that she was a prominent part of my childhood, that she danced at my wedding, and for the fact that she was able to meet and hold and play with my children.

In the end, all we leave behind are the lives we touch. My Grandma left behind a lot. 7 children, 15 grand-children, 10 great grand children, and a plethora of honorary family and true friends whose lives have all been enriched by knowing her.

I am grateful for her example, and the fresh perspective that a person does not need to be rich, or famous, or particularly important in the common definition of the word, to change lives.