My mother told me that they are planning to put my great grandmother into a nursing home if she is released from the hospital. I think that it is probably the only sensible thing to do for her at this point.

I have been sitting here in the dark picturing what it would be like to pass by her house right now, knowing that I would see no comforting glow of a light on. Knowing that nothing living stirs inside. Remembering the shelves of family pictures that line the walls and the crochet blankets and pillows draping the furniture. I remember a glass jar that always sat in the middle of her kitchen table that had a silver lid. It was a very plain jar but she always kept Club crackers in it. As a child I never missed an opportunity to reach into that jar. I remember thinking it was the coolest thing in the world that she kept her cash in her freezer. I remember hearing painful stories of poverty while growing up in the Depression. I remember realizing that is why she conserved water and electricity and didn’t have long distance service, why she stitched her own clothes and never drove a car. That was wasteful to her. She was taught to be conservative, to be appreciative. As a child I was amused by these realizations. As an adult I am humbled and inspired by them.

I want more memories of her. I want to go back in time and ask her all of the questions I was afraid to ask. I want to tell her all of the things I should have. I don’t want them to pack her life away in boxes and give all of her treasures to people who could never really appreciate them as she did.

These very ordinary images of an old woman provoke the most profound memories for me. I think it is because these memories of her are the most uncomplicated and pure memories of my childhood. She had no ulterior motive for being kind, she had no unkind words to say about anyone (at least not to me), and she taught me a lot about making the decisions in life that are best for me.

I recall the discussion we had when I decided that at age eighteen, despite my family’s disapproval, I was going to leave home and get married at the first possible opportunity. I was willing to give up all family ties for love. She didn’t tell me I was wrong or right, she told me that I had to do what was right for me. That I couldn’t let anyone else stand in the way of my happiness and that if I was determined enough to make it work, I would. Even if that meant she would never see me again.

I wonder what it will be like for me when other members of my family are gone, the ones that I cannot forgive. I wonder what I will feel when the ones who have hurt me through out my life die. Will I be glad? Am I that cold? Will I just feel numb? Or, will I feel relief? I don’t know.

I am reading a book that has sat upon my shelf for quite a few months now. I had spent various afternoons leafing through it and reciting quotes of interest to me that lace it’s pages. But I hadn’t spent much time really reading it. Tonight I am making an effort to really see the words on the pages. It is called Simple Abundance A Daybook of Comfort and Joy by Sarah Ban Breathnach.

In short it is a self help-book. I am not usually a self-help book sort of person. This book was given to me as a gift. I think that maybe by using some of the methods outlined by the author, I may discover what it is that is driving me lately. I want to figure out what all of the things I am thinking and doing and trying to accomplish really mean to me and where it is I am really trying to get within myself.

I feel like I am “standing in a river and dying of thirst” at this point in my life. I know that I have so many things to be grateful for. In the last year I have been given everything I have ever wanted. So why am I still so restless? I know that deep in my heart I am extremely grateful for what I have. I think I just didn’t understand that getting everything you ever wanted in the material world doesn't guarantee that you are going to be mentally or emotionally satisfied. And now I realize that I have had what truly makes me happy all along. And that simplicity in life is really important to my happiness. So everything should be peachy huh?

It actually is. Everything could be as smooth as butter if I could and would just let it be. I need to figure out what it is in my head that won’t let it. Because I can’t spend my life wishing for things to be different when there is nothing wrong with the way things are. I will wish my entire life away.

The more I contemplate, the more I come to the conclusion that shedding the things that interfere with enjoying the simple things that I love so much is, in fact, what I need. I need out from under all of the things that are complicating my ideal life, the snowballing negativity that comes with having the “American dream”. I think now that I am comfortable with myself in more ways; I would be complete if everything around me were simplified. The sky would be bluer, the grass greener, and so on. Maybe I am just crazy.

I have sat down each night with the intention of writing something other than this journal. I want to finish something that I have started. At this point, it could be any of the writings that are contained here, ones looming in other places, or an entirely new project. I just want to finish something. I want that satisfaction of accomplishment.

Posted by gwendolyn on January 18, 2001 at 01:10 AM