Missing Gram

Yesterday, driving home from camping we stopped at a fresh produce stand. One of the items they had, besides tomatoes that really smelled like tomatoes, were black-eyed peas in the pod.

Although I am a black-eyed pea lover, I had never seen them "in the pod" state. I talked to the young man at the stand about how to prepare them and purchased a couple big handfuls.

Today, I sat at my kitchen counter as I listened to the laundry, waiting to add the fabric softener and popped the beans out of the pods. It was a time consuming job and so, as I worked I admired the greeness of the beans, their perfect shape... and I began to remember my great grandmother, sitting at the kitchen table in the apartment in Ottawa, cleaning a big bowl of green beans. She was crying.

Now, my great grandmother was one of the jolliest women I have ever known. She had a heart that stretched around everyone. She befriended strangers and made them part of her family. She had a contagious laugh that found humor in all of life's little speed bumps. She knew what it was to get the short end of things, and worked hard to make certain those she cared would not have to feel that way. I remember that both her daughters and her son-in-laws doted on her.

When I walked into the kitchen I asked, "Gram, why are you crying?" I was worried and distressed. I had never seen her cry before.

She replied, "John (her late husband) has been gone for fifty years and I miss him."

I can still hear her say that. I can still see her sitting in the green light of that high ceilinged kitchen. I have thought often of her there, missing her husband, and when I do I miss her.

Gram has been gone for thirty years. She knew how to love without reservation and she was loved for it. It is my hope that I learn to love like that... that I am willing to live with the joy and the sadness that real love brings. That I accept the responsibility that comes with loving and that I touch lives, just like she touched mine.