Posted by: Wagons Ho | January 23, 2013

Tea cups and tears

My grandma died. She was 95 so it wasn’t completely unexpected but it was sudden. It had been over 20 years since I saw her in person. Being in the military will do that to you. Even though we never lived near her, and didn’t really talk other than cards and letters, I still felt close to her. I can clearly remember her house, playing with the cats and dogs, feeding the chickens and getting eggs. I can close my eyes and see the windmill in their yard, the teacup collection in the living room and my grandmother standing in the kitchen in her summer house dress.

I have nothing but warm memories of her, and my grandfather. Still, when I got the call I didn’t really cry.  It was hard to tell Marshall and I cried when I did. I’ve cried a couple more times since then but not the real tears I “should” have. I kept thinking they would come. After I talked to my mom. While we discussed who would be going, when the funeral would be, etc. But no tears. Sadness, yes. Worried for my mom and how she must feel, yes. Guilt about not making more of an effort to keep in touch, or visit, yes. But tears, nope.

Then I got a text from my sister telling me they would be going to Grandma’s house. Grandma hadn’t lived there in the last few years but everything was still there and my mom wanted to go. I thought about the teacup collection. I used to love looking at them, so pretty and delicate. I asked my sister if anyone would mind if I got one of the teacups, and then broke down. The “real” tears finally came. The teacup. Who knew.Grandma


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