� You are so Beautiful to me � 2002-01-26 � 6:49 p.m. �
Today is my Gram's Birthday... she would be eighty... I guess she still is.
She is one of the most beautiful women I know. From birth to just shy of nine I loved her with every bit of my child soul. It wasn't a day for me, if I didn't have my Gram.
When I was twelve, i wrote her biography, with all the wonderful things she had done. Through the eyes of her admirer...
She was born this day 1921 in Surrey England. Born a baster child to her mother Queenie... she was sent to live in a bording school in London... Queenie remarried a man called William Chaplin.. Yes, the same Chaplins as the most famous Chaplin of all.. They had two children, Anne, and William.
Her mother, whom i never knew, I am sure did the best she could for her daughter... sent her where she would learn to be well read... well respected.
And that she was... she had many talents,even I recall. Wit and profound intelligence among them. She was a swimmer... in competition... a medal winner.. her grace in water mirrored her grace on land.
And, in 1941's... she met a soldier from canada. She, working in an amunition factory... pumping out the lead that fed the death... he fighting for what he was told was right... They met... they married.... and in 1943 they had their first son. They managed to make it through the war, and my Gram and my uncle stayed behind in England while my grandfather went back to Quebec to make a home for them..... finally, in 1945, she, Brian, a few belongings and a dresser, boared a ship in London... across the sea and docked in halifax... where they took a train from there to Montreal... never looking back.
In the years to come.. she mothered five more children, three boys, and two girls, and fostered two other boys... Peter and Wes... I don't remember hearing that she ever worked outside her home, and I am sure in that time with that size of a family, she never did.
She went through a lot.. more than i am sure I was ever told... a daughter at a young age, pregnant... later sick. A son, hit by a car, spending 9 months in a deep coma... he woke up, yes, but never was he the same.... and a husband with more issues than my family will ever care to admit... a short time in prison.. man-slaughter is you must know... she stuck at home with five kids... and no money... a husband who was nothing more than a product of his environment.... who made some of his children that as well... i am not saying he wasn't a good man... i am just saying he can't be responisble for the things he'll never know. Later in their life he had lung cancer... had surgery and lived five years missing part of his lung... in her constant care.. under he wing.... under her touch...
She loved him, more than she loved her life... he wasn't a gentle man, that I know... I don't remember him well, but I can see him in my uncle's eyes... in my brothers' eyes.. I can see him and his faults... But she loved him with her soul.
I rememeber when he died... I was barely three... I remember when he died... it devastated me. Gram had told me that he had gone fishing... for a long time.. she didn't know how to explain death to a baby... But i remember a few years later, her raspy voice telling a lady at Canadian tire that she missed him so much... that she was waiting for the day to be with him again... that without her grandbabies life would be lonely... and she was just waiting for it not to be.
I bet she thought I didn't understand her... but I remember that so well.
My Gram was many things to me... she was my teacher... she taught me how to write... to print, and cursive... she taught me how to read and how to knit sorta... she taught me about art... I guess something that won't leave me. She would let me paint on her counters and on her floor... a large spread of colour and design... a canvas in the eyes of a child.. larger than life.
She taught me a lot about words.. about the beauty of the right ones... the conviction of heart.... She taught me about dignity and of Grace.. and I see that in me... when I look at my own eyes.
When I was seven my parents told me she was dying... that she had cancer, like my grandfather, and that she wasn't going to be fine. I don't remember it effecting me greatly then... but i remember everytime I saw her.. I held her hand tight... I rubbed my small fingers across her soft skin...
She had a small lump on firt knuckle on the middle finger of her left hand... I used to push it up and down when I held her hand... I don't know why... I just did. And from the time I knew she was sick.. I never wanted to let her go... but I had to... and more than that she needed me to.
Gram's last months are a blur to me.. I blocked them I guess... i remember more certain moments about her... certain words... and certains kisses... I remember the day she died.. I remember waking up.. and knowing things weren't right... I remember crawling on to my dad's lap at watching him cry... I remember asking if I could go see her... and hold her hand.
How I remmeber her... all about her...
I was never given much of hers after she died...a few small things here and there... A few years ago... my aunt gave me a dresser of hers to have in my room.. I opened the top draw and inside it... a receipt from a shop in London... 1945. I also have her boarding pass to from London to Halifax somewhere...
But above all she gave me... her big dark eyes and her heart... And I can proudly say that i am the only granchild of hers (if even above her children) that has taken the time to know every little thing about her.... with whom she mingled with as a child... to her least favourite foods... I know my grandmother as though she was myself... I take pride in knwoing the things that made her smile, and the things that made her sad...
I know that Louie Armstrong was one her favourites... we used to sing along with him almost everyday when I was small.. I know that she expected a lot for her family and a lot for me... and I know that even thirteen years passed... she still watches over me...
When I am tired... when I feel I have had things rough.. I can feel her arms tight around me... Her touch...
She's a wonderful woman that Gram of mine... smart... beautiful.. courageous and strong...
If i was closer to where you lay, I would bring you flowers today...
In place take this as my vow to you... I cherish you... and no matter how many years pass between me and your death... i think of you always and I love you for good.
She was completely a lady that grandmother of mine... and in her life lived... an angel i find.
� previous � next � comments � diaryland � old �