What is in a
moment? Is one moment not just a blip in all the moments of our lives? Sure it
is. One moment is just that right? It is nothing more, nothing less. A moment
is a piece of time that happens and then moves on as our lives propel forward.
Or is it? I have had an awful lot of time to think about moments lately. I have
to tell you, if you ask me, moments are so much more than the minutes and
memories they contain. They are a part of us. They are a part of who we once
were, but even more than that they are a part of who we are.
We spend our
lives saying goodbye. We do it on a daily basis. We kiss our spouses goodbye in
the morning before we head off to work. We say goodbye to our children as they
begin their school day. We say goodbye to friends after preschool drop off. We
say goodbye to our loved ones after a big meal on a Sunday. We say goodbye to
the waitress at our favorite pizza place on a Friday night. We say goodbye. It’s
not something new. Saying goodbye is part of our every day. It’s when that
goodbye feels final though, it is then that we start to think about the
moments. It is then that we start to think about all the goodbyes that came
before that one. It is then that we wish we had made time for more Hellos. It
is then that we realize the moments are time capsules. They are little pockets
of beautiful memory dust that our brains have collected as if our brain knew
that one day we would need all those moments to compile our book of memories.
The beauty
of life is that it is unpredictable. We have no way to know what lies ahead. As
much as we plan our daily activities, most of life is simply unpredictable. No
one knows this better than my grandmother. She was born in 1927 to Irish
immigrants, just two years prior to the start of The Great Depression. As kids I
remember her telling my sister and me often not to waste our dinner. What did
we know? What did waste mean? We wanted for nothing. My grandmother though, she
was a woman who knew what it meant to come from nothing. She knew what it was
like to care for her younger siblings. She knew what it was like to not eat
dinner so her baby brother would not go hungry. She knew. She knew much more
than she ever told us back then. Instead she told us the funny stories about
her brother throwing baby powder out a window. She told us about being locked
out of her walk up apartment and her brother telling her he wasn’t allowed to
let strangers in. She told us how loving her parents were. She told us how
proud they would have been of all of us. She gave us more than moments. She
gave us the whole story.
My
grandmother was a widow young. My grandfather died when she was only 53. I’m
going to be forty this July. I can’t imagine how devastating this was for her.
I was only three years old at the time and my sister was 18 months. My
grandmother decided to take her grief and get rid of it by spending as much
time with us as she possibly could. My memories of her go back as far as they
will allow me. I am full of memories of her showing up at our house every
Friday and staying the whole weekend. She would sleep in a bed right outside my
bedroom. We would laugh and laugh until she finally told me to go to sleep so
we could make the most of the day when we woke up. There was something so
comforting about knowing she was right outside my door. At three years old, the
mere thought of my grandmother guarding my door was better than any amount of
sheep counting.
She
continued to fill my life with moment after moment. Every year we took our
annual trip to Lake George, NY. She would tell my sister and I how her and my grandfather
used to vacation there as newlyweds. She would tell us the stories about my
mother and my uncle learning to water ski for the first time. As she would tell
us these stories I would always play them out in my head. I would see my
grandparents sitting by the lake in their old timey bathing suits watching my
young mother, with her long, dark brown hair learning to water ski. I would imagine
my grandparents as the young couple they were. I would imagine the joy. I would
hear the laughter. I would feel her sadness. I would feel her loss.
As time
moved on my grandmother was there. She was there for my small moments and she
was there for my big moments. She took me to Ireland for my 8th
grade graduation. She told me all about my great grandparents and as we sat on
top of a windy mountain we laughed about the fact that her hair did not move
(way to go Aqua Net). It was one of the best trips of my life and that was one
of the first times I knew that I was living moments that were going to become
forever memories.
She
continued to be there for all my moments from proms, to graduations, my wedding,
the birth of my oldest son and so much more. She was there.
“I will
Grandma. You know they love you so very much.”
“Jen, don’t
you cry when I go. You promise me you will dance and sing. You promise me those
boys will dance and remember all the great times they had with Nana.”
As I held
back tears to make her this promise I suddenly knew it was one I would be able
to keep. After all she gave me years of moments that will turn into a lifetime
of memories and one day I will sit on top of a mountain in Ireland with my
boys. I will let the wind take my hair and I will laugh at the fact that she is
looking down and yelling “You should have used hairspray you dummy!”
