I don’t know if I can stop crying long enough to write, but I don’t know what else to do and I’m home alone until later tonight. My grandmother died this morning. She was 92, and she said she wanted to rest, and just went to sleep. I’ve been dreaming for weeks she was going to die, and calling her but she couldn’t hear the phone to answer it. My mom relayed messages to her, though, and she knew I was thinking of her constantly. I wanted her to live forever, her brothers lived til late 90’s, so it didn’t seem TOO crazy. But she was ready to go. I love her so, so much, she is one of the most important, most amazing people in my life. I will miss her more than she could ever know.
Black tulle & pompoms in the barn? The best.
She was born in Brooklyn in 1917, and she loved the ocean more than anything in the world. She swam whenever she could, and lately she’d been upset about not being able to travel. I’d asked her to come live in California, with me, where she could be warm & near the sea, but my whole family has moved to Vermont from NY, so she wanted to stay there.
She’s the smallest one, her brother Otto is in the middle.
She always sat like this. Tomboy!
They spent a lot of time upstate, her mother was ill (my grandmother was the youngest of 9 surviving children) & they went to a farm there. That’s her father, he owned a cafe in Brooklyn on DeKalb Ave, called “Bon Ton Cafe.”
Here is a photo of it, before my grandmother was born. She would sneak in and steal pocketfuls of graham crackers, and her father would get mad.
She also always bit her thumb for comfort and thinking times.
The necklace she is wearing here (flat rectangle, monogrammed) she left to me, when I get it I want to wear it for a long time.
Her husband left her with a 2 year old and a 4 year old, and she raised them both totally alone, working in factories her whole life. She was tough and amazing.
Why yes, I was a freakish newborn demon child.
These are notes I jotted down on the phone with her once, to try to remember her stories, crazy childhood in Brooklyn, remembering brass rings on the merry-go-round at Coney Island and horses in the city streets. She had the scratchiest New York accent, “mudda” for “mother” & so on. Meh I can’t think about it without crying.
climbed fences in no trespassing places
jumped off barges into the bay
fell off bikes
fell off rollerskates while jump roping on rollerskates
going down a hill on rollerskates and i can’t stop and theres a telephone pole and a policeman next to it, so of course i hit the policeman
“it’s funny what life is, you don’t know what it’s gonna be like.”
My condolences. She seemed like a great lady!
Aw, Tamera, I’m so sorry. This was a lovely post, I love the photos. xxx
oh tamera, i’m sorry for your loss. it is so hard, no matter how someone leaves your life, and you’ve had so much loss lately. i’ve been dreaming of my grandma a lot too, and of her dying before i can see her at christmas. i’m so thankful she is still in my life.
that last picture is a treasure, though! beautiful.
thinking of you. xx
I am so sorry. Thank you so much for sharing her with us. She looks & sounds like a really amazing lady – & like she must have had a great sense of humor. I don’t think it’s possible that spirits like that are ever really completely gone – they are too vibrant & filled with lifeforce.
I’m so sorry, dear…
i’m so sorry, tamera. my heart goes out to you. big hugs.
I love her tomboy stance. So sorry, Tamera. Thank you for this, though…a beautiful and thoughtful chronology.
I’m sorry. Those pictures are so lovely. Take care.
Hi – you don’t know but I love to stop by this blog every now and then, and I really felt like I had to comment on this post. I lost my Grandad a few years ago, and I miss him so much that it hurts, still. But I’m so so grateful to have been able to be close to such a special person. He’s still such a huge part of me, I find myself thinking about little things, his laugh, his smooth wrinkled hands, the way he’d always sing at the dinner table. Seems like you have a ton of similar memories of your Grandmother, that you’ll carry with you for the rest of your life.
It’s so horrible and it hurts, but soon it will be easier to think around the pain and just enjoy the wonderful memories. She seems like a very special person.
x
Beautiful Tam. Good, I’m glad you’re writing. As soon as I read the word ‘Mudda’, I started to cry and I felt better at the same time. I always remember the way she said “Stupit”.
I’m sorry for your loss. May she rest well and in peace. <3
Tamera, I’m so sorry to hear about your grandmother… What a lovely tribute to her this was, though!
I’m so glad she went so peacefully and I’m sure she knows how much you love her.
Oh I’m so sorry.
i scrolled down to the last picture and the tears came. having known you for a few years (god, i can’t count) this is exactly how i would imagine your grandmother to be. full of stories, her own girl, magic memories and mischief, wonderful eccentricities. anyone can see there is not only a kin connection between you two, but a spirit one. this kind of woman lives on far far after she’s gone. she’s still here, inside you and around you. xx.
I’m so, so sorry. You have such lovely memories of her–she seems like such a fantastic soul!
My condolences to Tamera and I loved reading this poast. I was very close to my grandmother too, just remember her like you already do, that is what she would want.
Goodbye to grandmother selkie, she sounds like a beautiful soul with an amazing life story! So glad you are keeping her memories alive. I hope you’ve had lots of hugs and tears (the good and the bad kind) since you’ve posted this…sending love & good warm thoughts.
oh my lovely. sending so much love. and i want to thank you for writing all of this & sharing all of these amazing photographs and stories. what a wonderful spirit she is. and so blessed to have such a wonderful spirit of a granddaughter. tamera i send you love, peace & pocketfuls of rosemary.
I’m very sorry for your loss. Thinking of you and sending healing energy your way. When I touch the ’13’ necklace my Nini left to me I feel her strength, courage, determination; love, kindness, understanding, and beauty. I believe you will experience the same feeling when you place her gift around your neck, knowing that you are a part of her and sharing that with everyone you touch throughout your life.
Blessings, Angela
Thank you, everyone. Writing this post felt good to do but now it’s hard to look at. I know she will be with me always but I wish I’d told her a million more times how much I loved her.
oh darling, i was so sad to read this – you’ve had your fair share of heartache this year. she sure did seem like a wonderfully strong and inspirational woman, you get that from her no doubt. i’m thinking of you and i hope your heart heals, it will, in time.
I’m so sorry to hear about your gram… my gran passed on the 6th; she was 82, and we spent last week going through old photos as well – oh the tears and laughter. hugs to you, and here’s to a better year; 34 is lucky, right? [happy birthday] xo
my condolensces, tamera. this is a lovely memorial post for her – the photos are great, particularly the one of you both together. she sounds like an amazing woman. grief is terrible and exhausting – take very good care of yourself. it’s a lot of hammerblows at once, i know, but these sequences do end…
Oh these pictures are amazing! The cafe! A whole life. Lived and done. Children and grandchildren keeping the family blood pumping. Love & blessings to you and your family.
I am deeply sorry for your loss. Reading your post, which must have been incredibly painful to write and relive, brought tears to my eyes as well. The pain doesn’t completely disappear, but you will start to feel stronger in time. It is wonderful that you had such an amazing, inspiring person in your life. No doubt she was deeply proud of you, too. I wish you strength and happiness and peace this holiday. <3