Grandma

Honoring our Grandma, Freda Smith

My Brother Adrian and I have prepared these words to share with you.

One of the strongest people we’ve met is our Grandma, Freda Smith. Hers is not the strength of a summer storm, with its bravado and noise. Rather, her strength is that of a rolling river – certain of its direction, deliberate in its speed, with the power to nurture and shape those who live along her path.

This year, she’s physically left us, but my brother and I are who we are in no small part due to the impact she’s had on us and you all – our family. In that sense, she is still here and will stay with us through our thoughts, emotions and actions.

When we sat down to write this memorial, one thing we hoped to record was some of the more poignant experiences we’ve had with Grandma. We soon realized that for us, the experiences that shaped her to us are not so much formed around specific stories or events, but rather are about the small rituals and moments of clarity we experienced in her presence. These moments on their own are special to us, but together these experiences show just what is so special about her. Grandma nurtured us in the same manner and with the same love that she showed to her gardens. She let us do the growing and let us find our own spirits, she was there to offer us the nourishment and occasional weeding we needed to thrive. So with that, we offer the following rememberances:

• We remember the candy dish, always in the same state as the last time we left, appearing as if it were left there simply for our biweekly visits
• We remember her collection of ceramic figurines, carefully collected from years of drinking red rose black tea
• We remember her gardens, each unique flower garden stretching around the property and the big vegetable garden that was the centerpiece of the back yard with its great bean poles, deer fence, and wild fecundity.
• We remember her Rasperry patch with special clarity. Those amazing deserts she provided us and all the berries we pilfered while supposedly helping her with the harvest
• We remember her authoritative presence in the kitchen. Even our mother, an accomplished cook by any means, still was but a student in our Grandma’s kitchen.
• We remember the after-dinner Scrabble games. Boy do I remember the joy she got from trouncing us game after game. And, if by some minor miracle one of us pulled off an upset, we remember her begruding acceptance of defeat.
• We remember the after dinner coffee. My first real foray into the wonderful world of coffee came from those coffees during our Scrabble games.
• We remember the relaxing car rides back home, where even with the coffee, the sounds of minimal ambient music on “The Hearts of Space” would lull us right to sleep.

For most of my life, I never really knew Grandma was the oldest of all her siblings, but once I learned that it all clicked together. Especially given her experience living through the Great Depression and World War Two. Grandma was always competitive, but she always played fair and above the belt. Even in the face of adversity – losing her husband twenty years ago and losing her son Jim too early – she perservered. I will miss quiet strength that always was there for us – whether I realized it or not.

Grandma, I will keep your memory alive by remembering your strenth, and when times are not so hot or we need to pull together, we will be there with a quiet direction and deliberate pace to nurture and those around me.

Farewell Grandma, We love you