Ophan Moments
Jul. 27th, 2004 11:11 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fatesfollyI used to get these after my mother died. I still had my dad, but we were a million miles apart emotionally.
Then, I just had my grandmother. And even though I took on more of a caregiver role, there was still a fair amount of nurturing she did for me.
I miss that. No one to nurture me. A part of me thinks I should stop sniveling and get used to it, but every so often, it gets the best of me and I feel so lonely.
This afternoon, I have an appointment with the consignment shop in Goldsboro. I have planned to take all of my grandmother's clothes there to sell. She was a good dresser, in an old lady way. I'm having to drive the Explorer because it's the only vehicle that will hold all of the stuff.
I went over on Saturday to finally finish sorting through the clothes. I knew sweatshirts and older clothes would not sell, so I wanted to sort everything before today to get it all ready to go. I came across a brown paper bag on her closet shelf. Now my brother and I moved her from the farmhouse to the townhouse 14 years ago. I don't remember this brown paper bag.
I looked inside. Old, old gowns and bed jackets, an adult bib, white hair pins and hair nets... relics from my great-grandmother. She died in 1974, when I was only 5, but I've seen enough pictures and pieced together enough memories to know that this bag held important items to my grandmother. She had kept it all these years to remember her. It made me sad that she never shared this with me or told me exactly why she had kept these particular items. It made me even sadder to realize I would not keep any of these treasured items.. they meant nothing to me, but they had meant so much to her.
*****
Lee's parents make me feel lonely. We've NEVER been close. They have moments of normalcy when I think it might be possible, but then they do or say something so hickish or prejudiced or backwards that I realize that Lee was truly an anomaly.
We met for dinner the other night for Lee's birthday. We had both been trying to lose weight with some success. They raved over Lee. When they realized I had been trying, too, they said I looked better, too. (Note to anyone complimenting a fat person losing weight.... it's painfully true that one "looks better" when they lose weight... just don't say it. Tell them how good they look. Don't compare them to the old weight or even reference it.)
Lee told me last night when I was showering that his mother called him yesterday while he was at lunch, to further rave over how good he looked that night. He said it made him feel good to know his mom noticed and cared to call again, over a week later to tell him.
I felt the little ache in my heart. There's no mom or grandmother to do that for me. I started crying quietly, knowing that it could be hidden by the water from the shower.
Then, I just had my grandmother. And even though I took on more of a caregiver role, there was still a fair amount of nurturing she did for me.
I miss that. No one to nurture me. A part of me thinks I should stop sniveling and get used to it, but every so often, it gets the best of me and I feel so lonely.
This afternoon, I have an appointment with the consignment shop in Goldsboro. I have planned to take all of my grandmother's clothes there to sell. She was a good dresser, in an old lady way. I'm having to drive the Explorer because it's the only vehicle that will hold all of the stuff.
I went over on Saturday to finally finish sorting through the clothes. I knew sweatshirts and older clothes would not sell, so I wanted to sort everything before today to get it all ready to go. I came across a brown paper bag on her closet shelf. Now my brother and I moved her from the farmhouse to the townhouse 14 years ago. I don't remember this brown paper bag.
I looked inside. Old, old gowns and bed jackets, an adult bib, white hair pins and hair nets... relics from my great-grandmother. She died in 1974, when I was only 5, but I've seen enough pictures and pieced together enough memories to know that this bag held important items to my grandmother. She had kept it all these years to remember her. It made me sad that she never shared this with me or told me exactly why she had kept these particular items. It made me even sadder to realize I would not keep any of these treasured items.. they meant nothing to me, but they had meant so much to her.
*****
Lee's parents make me feel lonely. We've NEVER been close. They have moments of normalcy when I think it might be possible, but then they do or say something so hickish or prejudiced or backwards that I realize that Lee was truly an anomaly.
We met for dinner the other night for Lee's birthday. We had both been trying to lose weight with some success. They raved over Lee. When they realized I had been trying, too, they said I looked better, too. (Note to anyone complimenting a fat person losing weight.... it's painfully true that one "looks better" when they lose weight... just don't say it. Tell them how good they look. Don't compare them to the old weight or even reference it.)
Lee told me last night when I was showering that his mother called him yesterday while he was at lunch, to further rave over how good he looked that night. He said it made him feel good to know his mom noticed and cared to call again, over a week later to tell him.
I felt the little ache in my heart. There's no mom or grandmother to do that for me. I started crying quietly, knowing that it could be hidden by the water from the shower.
