I’m so touched by this, David. Thank you so much for sharing it. I didn’t have a grandma actively involved in my life but now am a grandma myself to a 17 month old miracle. I’ve been blessed beyond measure by the opportunity to be his care person every Friday and to have developed a deep relationship from the start. I can only hope to be for him as powerful a love as Grandma Perry was for you. Thank you again for your offering. 💕🙏🏽💕
Grace, your note is a gift. I'm so pleased to know that this telling found some answering chord within you, and I wish you everything your heart desires in being the loving, powerful force for good that you are becoming in your grandson's young life. Thank you for making time to write.
I can't believe I didn't comment on this before, but doubt I'll find the words. Most everyone whose grandmothers have instilled values and added substance and more to our childhoods, will relate to this. It is extraordinary, filled with period details intertwined with your loving memories and intuitive writing...a masterpiece!
The few times in my life that I have, to my knowing, been prayed for have felt like an infusion of honey into my cells. Grandma Perry is an inspiration and I thank you for sharing a little of her (especially that smile).
"The few times in my life that I have, to my knowing, been prayed for have felt like an infusion of honey into my cells..."
I've learned that there are different forms of this and some, borne of love feel just as you describe. But there are those who will pray for you in a way that it feels like a fifty pound rock being laid upon you, an oppression and burden cloaked as a gift. It took me a while to understand the difference, understand that I did not have to say even a word in reply while deploying my force field. Theirs are a form of manipulation, an act of feigned superiority, an attempt to bend you to their particular way of believing and behaving. It is not really an act of love.
Grandma's prayers were steady and generous. Kind. There have been others, as well and I have never felt a moment of resentment, regardless the sometimes differences in our beliefs or faith. Those prayers are an absolute, intentional and energetic gift. They are honey.
It took years to understand the differences, though I felt them right away.
May your day be kind my friend. I'm quite certain my grandmother would have adored you, and loved hearing you read one of your stories. Namaste
David, I do appreciate this honor that you bestow on your Grandmother. It reminds me that it is good to think often of those who came before us and were often better than us, but who gave freely of their love to make us as good as we are! I noticed in the photo with your clothes pin appendage, that there appears to be a substantial library behind your grandmother... not a surprise, having heard your description of her character.
She was indeed an avid reader, a lifelong learner and a grand supplier of books for her children and grandchildren. Birthday and Christmas boxes nearly always contained a new and fascinating book. My favorites were the dog stories, Lassie Come Home, Silver Chief, White Fang, Call of The Wild and the adventure stories like My Side Of The Mountain. Thank you for your very kind note.
A powerful lesson in your sharing the story of your hero. Thank you. I will also remember your grandmother. She will now motivate for me to do those distasteful and too often neglected tasks in my own life.
What a sweet and wistful tribute to your first hero. Your grandma sounds like a force! Love is the strongest one. We all should have someone praying for us thus.
Heck of a story about a heck of a woman, David. If only we could go back and spend more time with our forebearers, the things we’d come away with. I have the drop leaf table my grandfather made, relatively simple in construction. Rescued from an attic, it needed some repair to be usable again. We set it right, refinished the wood and it now occupies a prominent location in our home. It’s my tangible reminder of a person who reminds me of your grandmother.
I love this glimpse, Geoff. I'm continually left with the impression that these physical things that once belonged to others before us absorb and hold some of the energy of those who loved them before us, and that through them we may pick up on that energy, we may feel some sense of them, align ourselves to them. Thank you for making time to offer such kindness.
🙏 Oh I get it now! I can feel Phelma in every one of your essays. Her study and faith in God now transmuted into you; the same reverent bow to the great mysteries, only yours in the shape of the winged and leafy ones. 🕊️🍃
How do we define character? How can we know someone we’ve only met through words?
You carry the past in your heart, bringing everyone who toiled to hold together and solidify your foundation. It has become all you hold dear. A part of everything you do. Your family tree stands tall, its roots run deep. And in this story, your grandma made sure the roots would hold. Nurtured by love and determination. Your stories are made from the same place mine are. Of course you still have the chair. You hold tight to each and every memory, whether it is piece of furniture or a sentence of words. The old wooden kitchen table. “The arm , of that old blue sofa.”
Like me, you saved her words written on a piece of paper. You can still hear her as if you had an old record of her voice.
Memories and words. Still palpable. You can reach out and touch, almost.
I’m glad you wrote it all down and let us all in. Not an easy one to expose.
Now the story is ready to be passed to the next set of loving hands. What would she have said to you if she knew what you wrote? Oh, I won’t touch that one. I’m sure you know exactly what she would say.“…in her kind, immovable voice.”
Oh my friend---your beautiful Grandma! I can feel through your words how like an arrow she was---the true-line energy; the way she was filled with sky-things, like hope, God-trust, heart-connections, prayers.
Because your words paint her so clearly, I can see her kneeling beside the blue mohair chair, and I see her love landing in your heart over and over. I never knew my grandparents, except through stories, and this touches me in the deeps with wonder and longing.
I love that you kept those solid things---that special chair once hers, now yours---how you hold within you the grungy food bucket lesson---and more---all those things she taught you to love. I can see how she is with you, still, in so many ways, and it is beautiful...
Dearest Toni, I continue to learn about friendship, what it is to be well 'friended' by you. We coexisted in space for a time in high school, but didn't really know one another at all. It was our mutual friend, Larry who, in his passing opened up the conversation that this friendship has grown out of. I miss him, as I know you do. Miss his connectedness, his quirky abundance of really fun, funky, offbeat knowledge. His passion for music. His ease with silences and the outdoors. Through him you became a magical person... to me. And with that came your beloved, Philly. And your magical creative eye and heart, your generous soul, and gifted ways of expressing good and wondrous things. How very grateful I am to introduce you to my dear grandmother, and how honored to stand within the kindness of this note. Thank you.
I’m so touched by this, David. Thank you so much for sharing it. I didn’t have a grandma actively involved in my life but now am a grandma myself to a 17 month old miracle. I’ve been blessed beyond measure by the opportunity to be his care person every Friday and to have developed a deep relationship from the start. I can only hope to be for him as powerful a love as Grandma Perry was for you. Thank you again for your offering. 💕🙏🏽💕
Grace, your note is a gift. I'm so pleased to know that this telling found some answering chord within you, and I wish you everything your heart desires in being the loving, powerful force for good that you are becoming in your grandson's young life. Thank you for making time to write.
I can't believe I didn't comment on this before, but doubt I'll find the words. Most everyone whose grandmothers have instilled values and added substance and more to our childhoods, will relate to this. It is extraordinary, filled with period details intertwined with your loving memories and intuitive writing...a masterpiece!
I have found myself hushed by your generous heart, again and again, Kathleen. What a wonder you are.
Wonderful read. I feel this way about my mother. I feel she was like your Grandma Perry.
How wonderful, Byra, and how lucky. Your mom sounds wonderful. Thank you for taking time to leave a note...
The few times in my life that I have, to my knowing, been prayed for have felt like an infusion of honey into my cells. Grandma Perry is an inspiration and I thank you for sharing a little of her (especially that smile).
"The few times in my life that I have, to my knowing, been prayed for have felt like an infusion of honey into my cells..."
I've learned that there are different forms of this and some, borne of love feel just as you describe. But there are those who will pray for you in a way that it feels like a fifty pound rock being laid upon you, an oppression and burden cloaked as a gift. It took me a while to understand the difference, understand that I did not have to say even a word in reply while deploying my force field. Theirs are a form of manipulation, an act of feigned superiority, an attempt to bend you to their particular way of believing and behaving. It is not really an act of love.
Grandma's prayers were steady and generous. Kind. There have been others, as well and I have never felt a moment of resentment, regardless the sometimes differences in our beliefs or faith. Those prayers are an absolute, intentional and energetic gift. They are honey.
It took years to understand the differences, though I felt them right away.
May your day be kind my friend. I'm quite certain my grandmother would have adored you, and loved hearing you read one of your stories. Namaste
An absolute pleasure to read.
Thank you, Noha.
David, I do appreciate this honor that you bestow on your Grandmother. It reminds me that it is good to think often of those who came before us and were often better than us, but who gave freely of their love to make us as good as we are! I noticed in the photo with your clothes pin appendage, that there appears to be a substantial library behind your grandmother... not a surprise, having heard your description of her character.
She was indeed an avid reader, a lifelong learner and a grand supplier of books for her children and grandchildren. Birthday and Christmas boxes nearly always contained a new and fascinating book. My favorites were the dog stories, Lassie Come Home, Silver Chief, White Fang, Call of The Wild and the adventure stories like My Side Of The Mountain. Thank you for your very kind note.
What a delightful tribute, and further insight into you, David. Very positive, I might say! 😎
Thank you, Doug! Grandma Perry would have loved conversing with you at her generous dinner table. I have absolutely no doubts.
A powerful lesson in your sharing the story of your hero. Thank you. I will also remember your grandmother. She will now motivate for me to do those distasteful and too often neglected tasks in my own life.
May your wishes come true, Sue. And thank you.
One of the most heartfelt memories I've ever heard. Wonderful encomium.
I am most grateful for such encouraging words, Art David. Thank you.
What a sweet and wistful tribute to your first hero. Your grandma sounds like a force! Love is the strongest one. We all should have someone praying for us thus.
Thank you, Laura. And yes, if only we all had such a warrior in our corner. I'm forever grateful.
Heck of a story about a heck of a woman, David. If only we could go back and spend more time with our forebearers, the things we’d come away with. I have the drop leaf table my grandfather made, relatively simple in construction. Rescued from an attic, it needed some repair to be usable again. We set it right, refinished the wood and it now occupies a prominent location in our home. It’s my tangible reminder of a person who reminds me of your grandmother.
I love this glimpse, Geoff. I'm continually left with the impression that these physical things that once belonged to others before us absorb and hold some of the energy of those who loved them before us, and that through them we may pick up on that energy, we may feel some sense of them, align ourselves to them. Thank you for making time to offer such kindness.
🙏 Oh I get it now! I can feel Phelma in every one of your essays. Her study and faith in God now transmuted into you; the same reverent bow to the great mysteries, only yours in the shape of the winged and leafy ones. 🕊️🍃
I love this, Kimberly. And I thank you for seeing her and her bumbling storyteller so generously.
How do we define character? How can we know someone we’ve only met through words?
You carry the past in your heart, bringing everyone who toiled to hold together and solidify your foundation. It has become all you hold dear. A part of everything you do. Your family tree stands tall, its roots run deep. And in this story, your grandma made sure the roots would hold. Nurtured by love and determination. Your stories are made from the same place mine are. Of course you still have the chair. You hold tight to each and every memory, whether it is piece of furniture or a sentence of words. The old wooden kitchen table. “The arm , of that old blue sofa.”
Like me, you saved her words written on a piece of paper. You can still hear her as if you had an old record of her voice.
Memories and words. Still palpable. You can reach out and touch, almost.
I’m glad you wrote it all down and let us all in. Not an easy one to expose.
Now the story is ready to be passed to the next set of loving hands. What would she have said to you if she knew what you wrote? Oh, I won’t touch that one. I’m sure you know exactly what she would say.“…in her kind, immovable voice.”
How do we define character? I just did.
Yours and hers.
"How do we define character?"
So very powerful and thoughtful, Lor. I bow in respect and gratitude.
What a wonderful hero to have. Talk about teaching by example. Thank you for sharing her with us, David.
Holly, you are most welcome. I'm glad this one spoke to you.
Oh my friend---your beautiful Grandma! I can feel through your words how like an arrow she was---the true-line energy; the way she was filled with sky-things, like hope, God-trust, heart-connections, prayers.
Because your words paint her so clearly, I can see her kneeling beside the blue mohair chair, and I see her love landing in your heart over and over. I never knew my grandparents, except through stories, and this touches me in the deeps with wonder and longing.
I love that you kept those solid things---that special chair once hers, now yours---how you hold within you the grungy food bucket lesson---and more---all those things she taught you to love. I can see how she is with you, still, in so many ways, and it is beautiful...
Dearest Toni, I continue to learn about friendship, what it is to be well 'friended' by you. We coexisted in space for a time in high school, but didn't really know one another at all. It was our mutual friend, Larry who, in his passing opened up the conversation that this friendship has grown out of. I miss him, as I know you do. Miss his connectedness, his quirky abundance of really fun, funky, offbeat knowledge. His passion for music. His ease with silences and the outdoors. Through him you became a magical person... to me. And with that came your beloved, Philly. And your magical creative eye and heart, your generous soul, and gifted ways of expressing good and wondrous things. How very grateful I am to introduce you to my dear grandmother, and how honored to stand within the kindness of this note. Thank you.
I bet she’d be proud of the work you are doing here.
Smiling...