We began writing letters to each other the summer that I went to England for a 3-week student ambassador trip (yes, that's when I met the people who we just went to visit.) She had the most gorgeous script - then we continued to write when I came back, even across town. And she continued, the summer I was in Connecticut and when I moved into my sorority house at the University of Cincinnati. As she grew older, I would go to her condo and clean and help her around the house and we would laugh and have the best time. I am so grateful that we had those times together, even if I was scrubbing floors or scraping old onion and garlic-caked dishes out of her fridge (oh, the woman lived for anything with garlic or onions inside it.) She wasn't a "grandma" grandma - she didn't bake cookies, she smoked, she cursed - but she was a hell of a good time. One of my favorite photos is her and my dad in the 80s holding up their hands like a claw - a hand full of "these" - the middle one. HA! Another favorite photo is on her by the back door to their house one in a one-piece, sweetheart neckline bathing suit and heels - she looks like a model from the 1940s. I loved listening to stories from the streetcar and incline in Cincinnati, and how she had 5 marriage proposals when she was young - one from one of the boys of the Skyline heirs. Her artistic talent was incredible - it breaks my heart that she never went to art school, because she could sketch like a true professional. And she sewed fabulous Barbie clothes for my sister and me when we were little - from sundresses to formal wedding dresses with floor-length veils.
She taught me that you can be classy, witty and smart and have fun and be a little sassy. She loved beautiful things and I love to wear her old pieces with my clothes. The summer 2007, I left for an internship in New York, just as found out she had lung cancer. I suppose quitting a few years prior didn't battle the years and years of a bad habit. By the time I was finishing in August, her health had taken a turn for the worse. I was having lunch during NYC Restaurant Week at Tavern on the Green in Central Park with some friends from home who were also living in the city. I remember taking a call from my mom saying she probably wouldn't be going back home from the hospital. Due to a huge water main break in the city, we stayed at our friend's cousins condo that night and drank wine - I needed to free my mind. My mom's best friends in Atlanta work for Delta so they flew me home with a Buddy Pass. I left a suitcase at my apartment to ensure that I'd get to go back to New York to "finish my summer."
At the hospital I sat by her side and she was trying to ask me something and just said, "Next year, René?" I said replied, "Yes, next year Gigi." I really wish to know what she was asking about... The next night my aunt and uncle and cousins were on their way home from the Carolinas that night and came straight there to meet us. All 12 of us were sitting around here bed, talking and laughing as she slept. Eventually, we saw her her breathing slowing down, and then.... We clung to each other and to her and cried. It was one of the most intimate moments of my life. To see one of the most incredible people in your life literally fade away is indescribable. But I am absolutely amazed at how she held on until we were all there together, surrounding her, exactly as she had wished.
The next week we all went to my mom's house for dinner and drinks to celebrate her - she always wrote notes and thoughts in books and jotted things down (must be where I get it from). We found one book that she'd used almost like a journal and were enthralled by the things she said - I swear she knew we would find it and asked for this to happen. We sat in the living room and I read her words as we smiled and cried - it was such a hard but happy evening. She wrote about how lucky she was, to have her children and grandchildren as her best friends. For a woman who was not wealthy and never traveled the world or had any major accomplishments to boast of, she was the most grateful and appreciative lady in the world. I'll have to dig out the book and update this post - it gives me chills just to think of.
I hope everyone is blessed to have someone in their lives that teaches them the things she taught, the way she taught me. Visiting her at Spring Grove Cemetery is so calming - she's at the top of a big hill with a beautiful view. And her relatives are buried there as far as the 1800s from Germany - we have a handwritten map to their plots, now under trees and brush - we all went on a hunt for them after her funeral. I'm honored to know I was her kin.
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| Senior picture (I think she looks like Jackie O. here) |
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