If you follow me on your Facebook newsfeed or if you’ve paid attention to any of my July Instagram posts, you already know I said goodbye to my favorite spot in the world last month. It’s taken me a while to realize what’s made it so hard, but there have been some beautiful things already that have come out of it. Keep reading to the end to find out…I promise it’s worth it.
Jake and I are moving in just a few days and as we have
packed up our little apartment, I’ve found quite a few old keepsakes and
memories that have been cherished and kept over the years. Though many of them
I’ve now forced myself to part with (like random diaries filled with pages of
boys I used to like and my old Girl Scout uniform), some have remained precious
things that I’ll be taking with me.
There was one in particular that had me all puddly (I
know that’s not a word…just go with it) the other night. It was an ordinary
birthday card. However, this particular one was from my grandmother and it was
sent to me for my 16th birthday. For those of you that don’t know me
well, I had surgery the day before that birthday, and so while turning 16 is
seen as a big deal, I have always felt that the large influx of cards that year
was due to my bed-ridden state rather than the “major” age I was turning.
This particular card was especially significant. Here is
what the card itself read:
This is a time to reflect
on the childhood years
you’ve left behind
and to think of the special
young woman
you’re becoming.
And as you think of these things,
you should feel proud
of all that you’ve done
and all that you are…
and you should remember
how very important you are
to those who love you.
Have a Wonderful Birthday
It had a handwritten note just after it:
Whichever day you celebrate it! Am thinking of you constantly and
praying that you come through your surgery with flying colors as you do
everything else. And I especially hope, my dearest Phronsie*, that you won’t be
too uncomfortable afterwards. Better days are coming, I know! Don’t get
discouraged.
Your mother said you wanted to buy a hair straightener so I am hoping
that the enclosed check will cover it. If this is not enough, please let me
know, and I’ll send you the difference.
With much, much love always,
Your GaGa
Her note made me feel peaceful and connected to her again in
a simple way I had almost forgotten about. She passed on almost 10 years ago,
and her note reminded me of some things that are important that I’ll talk about
at the end of the post.
When I was younger, I loved visiting GaGa. Whether it was at
her house on Cape Cod or at her home in Florida, I loved spending time with
her. In many ways, I admired her so much. She was the perfect mix of proper and
mischief. She had the wonderful grandparent quality of “shhhh…don’t tell your
mother…” but made me sit up straight and kept me on my toes with my pleases and
thank-yous. On top of it, she had a wonderful way of enjoying life. Whether she
was with me, by herself, or with friends, she just enjoyed.
I remember always being elated at the site of her in her
bathrobe at her kitchen table by herself. Usually, it was early and no one else
was awake yet, and the two of us would have breakfast. She would always say,
“As my mother would say, ‘Did you sleep any?’” It always made me smile.
Our days together would sometimes consist of running errands
to her little places like Snow’s (one of her Cape favorites), the grocery
store, or lunch at the Chatham Beach and Tennis Club. The last one often involved
a tennis lesson, and on really rare, special occasions, a famous CBTC chipwich
(vanilla ice-cream sandwiched between two large chocolate chip cookies).
I remember the way she drove. She had large, round driving
classes that she peered out of and over the steering wheel as we talked and
laughed. Her hands were always placed perfectly at their appropriate 10 and 2
positions, and when we sat in silence, I could always tell when she was
concentrating because she would purse her lips and slowly move her bottom lip
up and down.
Those are just some of the memories that made saying goodbye
to the Cape so hard. However, I’m not the only one. There was someone else with
a similar relationship that took place in that house: my dad.
You see, the Cape house was built by my great-grandfather.
He owned it and the many acres around it for many years. The house was built in
1950. It was completed and ready for beach visits in 1953: the same year my dad
first visited at 10 days old.
As my dad grew, so did his relationship with his grandfather,
Sturgis (though he called him Grampie). My dad, like me, has similar stories of Grampie teaching him about the house,
picking cranberries (the house used to sit on a cranberry bog), and running
errands in Grampie's old Jeep. Grampie would say things to my dad like, “Now Hank [my
dad’s name is Mark], you’ve gotta watch the road for me since I can’t see it…”
My dad’s eyes would get big and Grampie would laugh. My dad is already a pretty
happy guy, but he especially lights up when he talks about his grandfather.
Sturgis passed on when my dad was only 16.
Because he taught him about the house, my dad knew how to take care of it. He carried
on all of his teachings and through it, I could always somehow feel Sturg’s presence in the
house. Even though I never met him, he was just always…there, somehow.
My dad had a way of always turning into his best self when
we were on the Cape. Really, he’s much better at always being his best self,
but on the Cape, he had a way of taking care of things, and truly enjoying the peace and
quiet. He had little projects to make the house better, and it created for a
little haven. I could always tell it was helping him as much as he was helping it. I didn’t really
understand the concept of appreciating what the house had to offer until I had to spend time in it without the main person I
loved to visit there.
My grandmother passed on in 2005 when I was 18. Before she
passed on that year, I had to spend a summer in the house without her. I didn’t
like it. I already knew it was going to be the last year I would be able to
talk to GaGa whenever I wanted, and spending the summer in the house without her
was not in my favorites list.
That summer, I had moments I would begin to enjoy myself on
the beach, but knowing GaGa wasn’t going to be sitting in her usual rocking
chair waiting for me when I got home would send me right back into my new-found dislike.
As it turned out, the following summer I was grateful for
the summer before. I realized that the summer before had been a buffer to get me ready
for life on Cape Cod without GaGa. Though I didn’t totally love it the next
summer, I had gotten used to the idea. I also knew that GaGa would not want me
hating the Cape just because she wasn’t there with me.
Slowly, I understood that the Cape and the house were a little
magical. It reminded me of what it was like to be a kid. Life was simpler in
the house without TV. Plus, it had bad cell reception and no internet, and so it forced
you to take in, examine, and change things that needed tuning up.
It also involved sweet, uninterrupted time with my family.
It reminded me of how blessed I was to have these three beautiful people in my
life that loved me unconditionally and had helped raise and shape me into the
woman I was becoming.
A couple years later, I was looking for a challenge and I
began biking up and down the bike trail that’s a short mile from the house. We
were there for 3 weeks, and I went from the first ride of only 7 miles to
biking 20 miles a day at least every other day. On top of it, my “beach read”
that year was French Women Don’t Get Fat
by Mireille Guiliano. I began practicing what the book was preaching and with
the two coupled together, by the time I got back home, I had lost 15 pounds. By the time school rolled around, each time someone mentioned how great I looked, I would think back with joy on my little summer of self-improvement that had started on the Cape.
Two years later, I had gotten “weird” about my relationships
with boys. I had ended a 2-year relationship in February, and the one that sort
of began after it was a bit of a flop, as well. When the time came for our Cape visit, one night, my mom took me upstairs after
dinner and we sat on my bed and talked for a while. She sincerely asked me what
exactly was going on. When I blurted out that I thought I wasn’t going to get
married because I thought I just wasn't cut out for it, she smiled, told me to really own what I wanted, relax, and the rest
would fall into place. That’s the short version, anyway.
I met and began dating my husband a month later.
I was sitting thinking about all of these things as I read
over that birthday card the other night. It reminded me why I always felt so
much like myself at the Cape house. I just felt so connected, not only to myself, but
to the generations before me that had set the tone and example and helped me
become the woman I am. Sometimes, visits to the house have been the kick in the
pants that I’ve needed to remind myself that I haven’t been doing my best in one
area, and what I need to fix to get back to being me. I won’t get into it now,
but the last one was especially true just after Jake and I got married.
Though I miss both the house and my grandmother a lot, I’m
so grateful for the lessons they’ve taught me – both the ones that were on
purpose and the ones that just came naturally.
Perhaps that’s why saying goodbye to something or someone
that you love is so difficult. Sometimes when you’re not watching or paying
attention, it feels like you’re saying goodbye to a little piece of yourself.
The truth is, those things are always yours to take with you: they are there to grow on and grow with and to tweak and make better for the world around you.
I sincerely hope all of you have memories you’re making today that
you’ll treasure and take with you. May these be reminders of who you are. May
they build you up and remind you of how unique you are and how necessary you are to the world around you.
May they remind you that there is only one you and that you’re loved and adored - whether you realize it or not. You ARE loved. Regardless of who you are, I’m
absolutely 100% positive that that’s true.
You are loved now and you are loved always.
With much, much love always,
With much, much love always,
*If you are wondering, GaGa used to call me “Phronsie:” the
youngest sibling from The Five Little
Peppers book series by Margaret Sidney. Like Phronsie, I have curly blonde
hair, and I reminded her of Phronsie when I came along. She has called me
Phronsie (or Phrons) for as long as I can remember.
