Today is Mimi’s birthday, and for the first time in years I did not stand in front of the birthday rack in the greeting-card aisle this week, picking out a card to send her. It also felt strange, last month, opening my own birthday cards from friends and parents and my maternal grandparents, and not seeing an envelope postmarked southwestern Missouri, with her spidery blue handwriting spelling out my name and address.
Mimi with my sister Betsy, in 2007
I live a long way from that quiet farm where she spent more than half a century, and so her loss does not come home to me daily or weekly, the way it must do to my uncles and aunts and cousins who live nearby. But I think of her when I have lunch with Corri, whose grandmother was Mimi’s sister, and when I see the heirloom books from Neosho on the bookshelves in my dining room. I think of her when I tell J the stories about my Noah heritage, and when it rains, because she loved rainy days.
She is somewhere I’ve never been yet, at peace and full of joy. She is with my Papaw, who died 12 years before she did, and this knowledge brings me peace, though I can’t explain it. But I miss her, and I wish I could call her up today, and hear her voice in the old farm kitchen, and fill her in on my life in Boston. She never came to visit us here, but she was thrilled that we are having this adventure. She loved antiques and teacups, history and old stories, and in a letter last year, she wrote, “Boston sounds like my kind of town.”
I’m not expecting to see her again for a while, but I will collect some adventures to share with her when I do. And meanwhile, I’ll remember, and call my dad so we can remember together.
I understand how you feel. I lost my Nanny back in 1995…and still feel the void. We were very close. She was always enthusiastic about whatever I did. But, would let me know if she thought I was making a mistake! Bluntly, like ownly family can! I hope she sees my children…she lost a child. I hope she delights in my travels…she never got to wander very far. I wish I could ask her advice, laugh with her, BE with her. A sweet sorry when I think of her.
Heartwarming
My grandmother has been gone for 20 years, but I still think of her when I make homemade bread or hear the hot bugs in the summer, and most especially when I play the piano because she was my first teacher. Grandmothers are special – I’m glad you have good memories of yours.
Zane & I met your Mimi at the wedding. She was a very gracious lady. I’m glad you have wonderful memories of her.
It’s so sweet and sad at the same time to recall the people we loved… I am glad you wrote about Mimi, I can imagine what a wonderful person she was and think of my own Grandmother.
There’s so much love in this post. That makes me smile. You are lucky to have many wonderful memories of Mimi! She sounds like a truly special person.
Katie, yesterday was my first birthday (ever) without a birthday card from Aunt Carol…I always smiled and said I would forget my birthday before she would….you brought her to life in your blog… thank you. I’ll never buy a new pair of my usual outrageous shoes without thinking of her! She loved you and Betsy so much…
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