Stand under my umbrella…

By the time I was old enough to appreciate the wisdom of my grandparents, they were already gone.  The struggles of their lives were the only real memories I latched onto, their strength the only tangible lasting impression I could touch.  Now, at 23, I would give anything for a fleeting moment in time to delve into their life experiences and dig away at the fossils of life lessons thrown their way.  What would they do in my situation, what advice would they impart during the dreariest of times in my life?  Both of my grandmothers were the strongest women I have ever had the privilege to say I know, or knew in some way.  Living with one grandmother during her battle with Alzheimer’s, I only knew the ghost of the woman she once was.  It breaks my heart to think she suffered from a disease that ripped away her memories for the entirety of my life.  I did not get to know the amazing person my mom knew and loved and for that I feel slighted in some way, as she did not have the opportunity to know me either.  My other grandma has a similar story and battled Parkinson’s disease.  For their strength, tenacity and drive in life, I will always be grateful to call these two remarkable women family.  They never gave up and continually put the needs of their families first, even during the darkest of times.  They were survivors of life’s tough spots and tumultuous times–from losing husbands to death, to supporting five children, they did it all.  While the memories I have are faint whispers from early years of childhood, I still vividly hear my grandmother, fiesty and loving as always, guide me, “Always remember to love, love, love,” she said.  “And you have to go through Hell to get a little bit of Heaven.”  As I struggle each day to rebuild my life in new, healthier ways, I hear the voice of my grandmother in my ear.  While my days may be full of rain drops and mud puddles, I feel both strong women standing by my side, under my umbrella, with nothing but “love, love,  love” for me.

“This is an important lesson to remember when you’re having a bad day, a bad month, or a shitty year. Things will change: you won’t feel this way forever. And anyway, sometimes the hardest lessons to learn are the ones your soul needs most. I believe you can’t feel real joy unless you’ve felt heartache. You can’t have a sense of victory unless you know what it means to fail. You can’t know what it’s like to feel holy until you know what it’s like to feel really evil. And you can’t be birthed again until you’ve died.”

–Kelly Cutrone

3 Responses to “Stand under my umbrella…”
  1. Beautiful post. My husband never had the pleasure of meeting any of his grandparents. They were all dead before he was born. I have one left. My grandmother who died a few years ago was truly one of the most amazing women ever and I wish she was here now to tell me all about her life. We have two little boys now, but when we have a daughter she will be my grandmother’s namesake.

  2. jordanleah says:

    Thanks Abby! It’s sad that sometimes we don’t have the opportunities to meet the amazing line of family we come from, but it’s good to know we can carry on the spirit or traditions of the person, especially through a namesake!

  3. You are so brave to heal yourself this way and how many others your healing may help ~ recovering and survivor are two words well embedded in my vocabulary.
    But on to happier topics~ : ) You have been nominated ( again maybe???) for The Versatile Blogger Award ~ to accept come visit :

    Much Angel Love,
    Aurora & Brian
    ps while checking out award on our page if you visit our page ‘soul healing’ place your name in comments for prayer, healing and any Angelic Guidance we may receive for you ~
    Love, Aurora

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: