My maternal grandmother, after a decade of struggling with Parkinson's, died yesterday afternoon. It was her time, certainly; she had been bed ridden and mostly unable to communicate for several years. I've had my goodbyes with her, but it is a struggle to be so far from home during this time.
It brings up in me thoughts about my family - who they have been and are, and how I fit into that structure. I've talked several times (and often at length) about being Irish - culturally Irish - and in times like this I am pushed to think about what this really means. I've assigned family quirks or silences or temperaments to an ethnicity that from which I am three generations removed. These familial traits run from my grandmother, and her mother who immigrated from Ireland at 16. Both women were severe mothers, and as I entered adulthood I heard a number of non-grandmotherly stories about each of them. While I have these stories with me to turn over and play through while I walk through this unfamiliar culture and city, I cannot share them or hear more from the rest of my family who will congregate around her one last time to share warmth and laughter and certainly a few ridiculous 'Mean Marie' moments.
Marie Fourre was my last grandparent alive - both grandfathers died in the 80s and my Dad's mother died on Mother's day 2009. When I said my final goodbye to her on a trip to Youngstown Ohio, I met and had my last goodbye with her last living sibling, my great uncle David - though I didn't know it would be the last time he and I spoke. He would walk over to me, roll his eyes at the whole scene, and talk to me about disliking wakes, how he hadn't wanted to be the last of his siblings to die, and lighter conversation about his days in the priesthood and living on Lake Erie. It was wonderful to connect with him, only possible for us in the circumstance of my grandmother's, his sister's, wake and funeral.
These next few days, my grandma's remaining siblings will be in my mind: Martin, Pat and Peter, along with her 7 children, 19 grandchildren and 4 great-grandchildren. It will be tough to be away from them these next few days. I'm not sure how many of my aunt, uncles and cousins will be in town for the funeral and wake, but I will be among them in spirit.
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| Mean Marie with (clock-wise from top left) PJ, Andy, Danni, Luke, Joe, Kate, Dan, Tony and me |
Sigh... I can so relate to not being with family in such times. My paternal grandma passed away in 2005 and then my grandpa last September. I was here both times. For my grandma, it helped that I had a memorial for her (do you remember it?) and for my grandpa, I happened to say my goodbyes to him at Bob's grandpa's funeral, also last September (they died three days apart). Be sure you have some way to honor the passing, it helps immensely. Otherwise, for me it would have felt so unfinished, suspended, remote from all. My love to you.
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