These notes were taken on the back of a hand written "Reserved" sign that was taped to my chair at Aunt Cori's last Christmas concert.If you know this family, you know how well they care for everyone who crosses their path but especially for their own. At every concert I have ever been to, there is a hand written note on the back of my chair reading "Reserved". I am not sure anyone has ever paid for a ticket to Cori's concerts because we all feel close to this extraordinary family and as special as it makes me feel, I think they might have the same sign on every seat.
I started to write notes when Cori sang her song about Mary and I watched her interact with her amazing granddaughter Sophie and it absolutely broke my heart. You can't tell from the picture but the whole bottom of the page is wrinkled from the tears I tired of wiping from my cheeks.
These were my thoughts as I sat in my reserved seat at the Lutheran Church on South Temple surrounded by family:
As Cori was re-counting the story of the family Christmas pageant and she looked down into the audience at her granddaughter, Sophie to tell her that she was the most beautiful Mary she had ever seen. It was such an intimate and sincere moment between Gummy and Grandchild that it made my heart ache for Sydney who has no one who talks to him this way. The love was so pure it was piercing.
I was struggling to keep from making noise as I tried to hold back my awkward public display of emotion. Without thinking, I looked across the chapel to Heather only to see her chin shivering and water streaming from her swollen eyes.
I can't say what Heather was thinking but I would imagine our thoughts were somewhat aligned. I thought how angry I was I would never have the pleasure of watching my mom be a grandparent. Should I have had children sooner? Would that have given her the will to take better care of herself so she could still be here? I am sure not, but the thought crosses my mind often.
I am angry that Sydney isn't closer to is Pop-pop. You should see those boys together, there are few things sweeter. I am hurt that there are grandparents who are alive and don't make the investment in their grand kids that they should. I don't care how angry you are the adults in the child's life. Step up!
This is the kind of anger that starts in your chest and climbs through your throat to your eyes where it spills out. When it overflows through your tears, the world around you can see it and it turns to extreme sadness.
Once I got past the initial anger I started to visualize my mom sitting on a cloudy bench in paradise, backed by a sunset. All the children of her posterity gathered around listening to her tell the story of the great Warrior while she taught them the hand motions to help narrate as the warrior would "run through the tall grass, past the natives, over the footbridge, and to the gates of the city where they would open and shut behind him..."
I don't ever want to disturb this scene by taking one of these little people from her. They should stay at her feet where they are safe, loved and protected.
4 comments:
i love you. i love sydney. i love your family. thank goodness he will have his auntie katie! what a lucky boy for that.
bring him soon for grand auntie hugs. and bring heather and adrian too - we will have a sisters party.
Oh.
Oh.
Oh
OK, now I am composed a bit and I will respond.
First, thank you for feeling what I feel, and what I want people to feel through that song: a love of family, a tenderness for little ones, a recognition of the universality of the story. And you are right, I do sincerely think Sophie made the most divine Mary.
May I tell you that it breaks my heart that your mom is away from you; that she is away from your daily lives and that Sidney does not know her voice and her touch like he should. That is bitterly unfair, and no one can legitimately tell you otherwise.
But I will also tell you, without in any way belittling what your "next generation" is going through, that I did not have grandparents in my life. We did not have the touch of a grandmother; nor a grandfather. Gram's mom died when Gram was 14, and her dad died before I was born. We lost Dad's side of the family in the Great Divide. Mom sure could have used a mom in her struggles. And we sure could have used even one other adult in our lives in Pittsburgh. Not even an aunt or uncle or cousin in sight. And yet, I feel a closeness to my family like few other families have. Something about shared sorrow tightens the cords. It does not make it fine that your mom is not here; but it is a fact nonetheless that you will either fall away from each other in your shared sorrow, or you will come closer. Pain kicks apathy out the window (there is nothing more pathetic than an apathetic family anyway.) Sidney has facilitated the tightening of the weave in a very real and tangible way. Hooray for that little boy. He is Her's! Just as your children will be Her's. That is if you give them a place in the bloodline. Any children that come to any of you are Hers, not because they have her next to them, but because they have her in them.
I adore you, Katie! We all do. we feel the stars aligned to bring us all together. We will try, in our weak way, to hug your mom's little ones the way she would want them to be hugged, and though we cannot tell warrior stories like her...YOU can. I'll work on doing the musical score in the background, K?
Note: DO NOT read before returning to class to finish teaching. Not a pretty sight.
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