My Grandmother's Hands

Today it finally hit me. With the Christmas holiday winding down this afternoon and my grandaparents and aunt departing for home after a great afternoon of food and conversation, I finally felt that the tomorrows that seemed stacked up endlessly before my departure are suddenly running low.

I had a long talk with M. about all of the things I am feeling. It was hard to convey the ambiguity of my feelings- excitement and optimism and at the same time sadness about leaving and insecurity about how I will do without my lifelong support network nearby. He offered some positive advice and his support but I think this is less about fixing a problem and more about the gray area of feelings that result from the black and white decision of America vs. Europe.

I have read in others' blogs about the chasm between living in the moment of the lives they have chosen and the tug they feel for the people, especially family, that they have left behind. And today, when all the fesitivity and activity died down, in the stark quiet of a gray and damp Connecticut winter afternoon, I really felt for the first time a tug of sadness for what I am leaving behind.

The part of me that is a survivor and an adventurer knows that I have the tools to work through the feelings and the challenges in my imminent future. Beyond that I know that I will be more successful in my goals and happy if I have a can-do attitude. I pride myself on taking that approach to life in general. However it is foolish to think I can ignore the emotions that come with any major life change, especially one that involves leaving behind almost all the people that I love and that love me most in this world.

So, I will be positive but I'm not going to suppress any feelings that come with this move. I will also be vigilant that I am not indulging my feelings for one continent at the expense of the other. It will be a delicate balance between these two worlds but as I trade one reality for another, it is a balance that I must work at if I'm going to make my day-to-day life succeed.

I wrote this about my Grandmother earlier this fall but I thought about it again today when she was here visiting:

My Grandmother's Hands

Today I visited my Grandparents. I have been lucky to know all four of my grandparents all my life. When I was younger I took it for granted that they were a big part of my life, always willing to listen and spend time with me while my parents were preoccupied with the obligation of taking care of day to day life. My grandparents shared their different viewpoints and experiences and lent a unique perspective on life. They also were a window to the past, telling me about family history, where we all came from and what my parents were like as children.

When I saw my grandmother today, I looked at her old hands, so bent and swollen. I saw both the strength they contain and the pain that they endure but also all the good she did with those hands. One of her fingers is swollen with arthritis, rendering her right hand nearly useless. Grandma is a doer. Her hands are always busy. Laundry, cooking, and cleaning were just part of the daily chores. But in those hands there is magic. She used her hands to rock babies to sleep in her job as an obstetric nurse. I have never seen someone so soothing to a baby. With those hands, the fussing and the fear seem to melt away and in no time any baby I saw her hold was smiling up at her or sleeping.

When I was a little one, she would scoop me up and hold me with those hands, rocking away any problems. She would read me a book at bed time, turning the pages slowly and deliberately to savor every moment. Life was not about rushing to the destination, but relishing the trip. If I couldn't sleep, she would rub my back and I could feel the calluses from golf and gardening and all the other things she liked to do to keep active.

In the mornings, she would tap on the wall that our bedrooms shared. I don't know why but it was so thrilling to wake up in the morning and hear that little tap, tap, tap... I knew first thing in the morning that I wasn't alone. And better yet, I was at grandma's house and who knows what adventure we would have that day!

To this day we all still laugh about one of her favorite reminders, heard throughout the day, whatever we were doing. "Go wash your hands!" Did you pet the scraggly neighborhood cat? "Go wash your hands!" Did you shake hands with all the 'dirty' people at Church? "Go wash your hands!" Were you at the library poking through the stacks looking for the perfect book? "Go wash your hands!" Lunch time? "Go wash your hands!"

These days she is still constantly busy with her hands with chores around the house, taking care of my grandfather and knitting and more. When I looked at the swelling that started this week and saw her reduced to one hand but still trying to carry on with business as usual I felt both pride and pain. I took that hand and held it and hoped that maybe I could give a little strength back to the source of so much strength in me.

Posted from East Hampton, CT