And then, there were none…
The day I was born, I had at least EIGHT living grandparents. I am embarrassed that I don’t know the exact number; I know that it was at least eight, because I can remember when each of those eight grandparents died. Great Grandpa Roberto and Great Grandpa Caliguri both died when I was in elementary school. Grandpa Conley died during my 8th grade volleyball season. Great Grandma Roberto and Great Grandma Caliguri (both named Sanita), died during my senior year in college. Nana Conley, to whom I thank daily for my common sense and work ethic, died in 2001. I was 37 years old and grateful that she was able to meet both of children. And while I have fond memories of all of those six grandparents, this story is about Gramma and Grampa Strati.
Yesterday, we buried Gramma. She was 98 years old and we buried her 56 days after we buried Grampa who was 101 years old when he died. Gramma’s mind had been slipping for a long, long time and the more Grampa’s body gave out on him, the more obvious it became just how much and for how long he had been covering for her. He loved her and despite the fact that he was not one to easily show affection, his desire to keep Gramma safe from harm and to provide her with a familiar and comfortable home for as long as humanly possible was very evident.
As a child, I loved Grampa but would not say that I was particularly close to him. He was a very stubborn man who held tight to his convictions. As I grew older, I found that my beliefs and my Grampa’s beliefs were continuing to grow apart. I often found myself at odds with his beliefs and would sometimes cringe at things he said or the way he said them. But, he was my grandfather, so out of respect for him and love for Gramma, I held my tongue in public. In private, I would apologize, console and attempt to mend fences. My behavior was sometimes seen as weak and cowardly by some. But I am hoping with the passage of time comes an appreciation of the things you sometimes just do for family.
When we said our good-byes to Grampa in early July, all 11 of his grandchildren were present and over half of his 25 great-grandchildren were present. We took lots of pictures, many of them included Gramma. In fact, in one of her more lucid moments, she yelled at me. She told me that with my bad knees I should not be kneeling down beside her wheelchair. Until that moment I wasn’t even sure she knew who I was, but in that moment I realized that down on my knees, right next to her, is exactly where I was supposed to be. And other than thinking of Gramma being without her husband for the first time in over 76 years, there was little sadness surrounding Grampa’s death. He had lived a long, full, productive life. His legacy was his family.
We said our good-byes to Gramma on August 31 and once again all 11 grandchildren were present. It was one of the saddest days I have experienced in a long time. There is nothing sadder to me than watching one of my brothers cry and I think they all cried. It is the simplest things that make me cry for Gramma. I have cried at pictures, songs, pillow cases, dish cloths and the color pink. Gramma would not want anyone to cry. She would want people to be happy and to have fun. And as a family we did just that on Sunday night – she would have enjoyed that family dinner. We toasted, we prayed, we ate, we drank, we laughed. One of my brothers got in trouble, Gramma would have shaken her finger at him and then she would have started laughing. It was just as it should have been. About the only thing we didn’t do was play cards. Gramma loved to played cards.
All 11 grandchildren commented that we need to continue to find opportunities to get together. Before July, it had been over 11 years since all of the grandchildren had been together. And all 25 great-grandchildren have never been together. Gramma would really want us to get together more often. And even if we can’t ALL be together, more frequent gatherings of smaller groups would make Gramma happy, too. It was in those smaller gatherings that Gramma got to catch up with her grandchildren and got to know her great-grandchildren. Those more intimate settings are where Gramma was better able to make each person feel like they were her favorite – if only for a few moments. There is much that our family can learn from Gramma. Her legacy is how her family continues to grow in love, grace and beauty – the way she exemplified it.
Hopefully, with the passage of time comes an appreciation of the things you sometimes just do for family. And it is with that hope that I share a couple of personal thoughts and words for Gramma. May your love, grace and beauty always shine upon me, may your patience be ever-present in my life and finally, let peace begin with me.
I am forever your loving grand-daughter, Angela.
