I lost my Meemaw yesterday. I hate to say she died—it sounds so final. I would rather think that I will find her again someday. I cannot speak for her, nor can I speak for anyone else who knew her, but I can speak of the woman she was to me. I am knee deep in memories of her today, and the overarching theme seems to be her laughter. It was unique, to say the least, and I had the pleasure of hearing it frequently in her presence. As a child, she was many things to me—a refuge, my best girlfriend, and an adult who actually seemed to remember the difficulties of growing up. Meemaw lived two streets over when I was a kid, and her house always seemed like another world. In this world, we stayed up all night giggling and learning needlepoint. We made homemade ice cream at the drop of a hat and picked cherries off her trees for the best homemade pie you ever ate. We’ flew’ around the back yard with her towels safety pinned to our shirts. We danced and roller-skated with Neil Diamond playing on her Raggedy Ann record player. As a young adult, I learned from her that life wasn’t always a bowl of cherries, but that you should make the most of it. I will never forget the moment I realized that she had a life long before she became Meemaw. I saw compassion and understanding in her eyes—never the shame or judgment I deserved. As an adult, the thing I appreciate the most about her was her ability to be comfortable with who she was. I suppose this trait had always been there, I was just too naïve to see it before. She was fiery, independent, crazy, and fun. She was never too proud to put Kraft macaroni and cheese on the holiday table because she knew I loved it. As silly as that may sound, I respected her for it. I love that she had given up caring what others thought of her long ago and replaced that with her ability to simply care for others. When I have spoken of her in recent weeks, people have said that she was a gift to me from my Father. But, this just isn’t the case. She was only on loan—she was never really mine. She was and is always His.
Lyndie, I so sorry for your lose, but I’m so happy for your memories. It sounds like you were such a lucky girl to have a wonderful example of character and strength in your early life. What a great legacy she has left for you and has instilled in you. Thank you for sharing a little piece of your heart. Love and prayers to you and your family.
so sorry to hear of Aunt Marie’s passing. what a beautiful and thorough description of her joie de vivre. my dad always said that she was the only woman mean enough to straighten up Uncle Vernie yet tender enough to love us all. i am sooo sad that i let too much time pass since i saw her last but will treasure what time i did have with her. you and your family are in my thoughts and prayers, your cousin Marcy
Lynde, okay I have been living under a rock apparently. I love your blog site and now I know how to find out what’s happening when I can’t reach you by phone. Your tribute to your Meemaw was beautiful. The picture you posted literally looks like you with a wig holding Lukie, precious. You are so blessed to have such wonderful memories with such a wonderful free spirited woman. It’s so hard when they go but how lovely that she’s your special angel now. I love and miss you so much. I’m thinking of you and praying for you.
Her love for you was unending. Every one of us envied that easy relationship the two of you shared. Maybe the key was that neither of you had any expectations of the other. You were just free to love with abandon. Her movie has been redone and can be viewed at http://www.MeM.com. My deepest regret will always be that it wasn’t right in the first place. Thank you for coming and sharing your joy of mom with me. I love you very much.
I am flooded with tears as anyone who knew Marie has their own special memory of her.I always felt like she was my family too,and in reality she was.God puts every person in our life for a reason and after all since our blood is from Him,we are all family.Blood doesn’t make a family-LOVE does.Losing a loved one is the deepest pain anyone can feel,but we KNOW God will reunite us someday.One of the best gifts He ever gave me was the priviledge to be your aunt and watch you grow from a precious child to a smart,sweet,loving young woman that I am proud to say has always been one of my very best friends.If Marie could type you a message,I know it would be so full of love that it would make you cry and make you laugh–she could always make you laugh!She taught us all a lesson in her life and in her death–to leave a legacy of love.She will be missed!I love you SO MUCH and I hurt because you hurt.This pain will ultimately make you stronger-after all you’re just a piece of clay,and He’s still workin’ on you.He’ll use your greif so that you’ll be able to help someone else when it’s their turn to need a strong shoulder-and you’ve got some pretty cute shoulders that anyone would be blessed to lean on!All my love,Aunt Baby