a few weeks ago, a very Wise Woman advisor of mine suggested that much of my suffering around my grandmother might be alleviated if i accepted the fact that the person who is my biological grandmother is not much of a Grandmother at all. you need to find yourself another Grandmother, she said. a Real Grandmother, she amended. not the one who's been impersonating a Real Grandmother your whole life.
i have another grandmother. she died when i was ten, and so i don't think about her much. i didn't see her very much when she was around due to the strange, controlling nature of my mother's family. what i have from her is as spotty as my memories - a hand-knitted blanket, an old-fashioned baby doll named peggy, and my daughter meg's name.
when i first allowed my self to open to my psychic abilities, she was among the first three who came to me. i didn't even recognize her at first, when she said she was my grandmother. my grandmother's not dead, i remember thinking. oh yes, she is, i remember the small voice whispered. your other one is.
i have felt my grammy much around me in the last few weeks, her presence as palpable as the scent of jean nate and cashmere bouquet that sometimes overwhelms me. before i went to california, i asked her for a Sign. just a little something, i asked. nothing much... just something so i know you're with me. for real.
when my father spontaneously and for no reason i could discern suddenly decided to cook dinner one night, using one of grammy's old recipes, i figured i had my sign. i paid attention, noted what he did for future use, and let it go.
this afternoon he called me, quite out of the blue. he had a call from my uncle joe, his older brother. apparently uncle joe had a suitcase, taken from my uncle john's house, my father's second brother, when he died. it's been sitting around uncle joe's house for the last 20 years or so. a couple weeks ago, he decided to open the suitcase. inside he found an envelope, with a ring inside, marked "mom's ring."
my father choked up when he told me that uncle joe wanted me to have it. you were her only grandaughter, my father said. i wish grammy had the time to know you better.
i wish she had, too. but i think i have my Sign.
and furthermore, the war must end. blessed be.