Monday, February 27, 2012

Questions for my Grandmother

47 years ago today my Grandma Margaret passed away. My mom was twelve years old.

I don't know a lot of intimate details of her life. There are no journals or diaries. Heck, it's even hard to find a photograph of her, since she despised having her picture taken. (Just like my mom.) I know she was a wife to Chub McAdams, a mother to seven children, and was a faithful Catholic. She died when she was fifty-two years old from colon cancer.

When I think about her, I don't "miss" her because I never met her. When I think on her death I do get sad, but not in the same way when I think about my uncles or aunts who have passed away. I can still hear my Uncle Bud's voice. I can still hear my Uncle Mick's laugh. I can see my Uncle Bob's sly smile. I can see my Uncle Dave sitting in a chair, talking, drinking a Mountain Dew. I miss them terribly. I don't have that same experience when thinking about my Grandma Margaret, or even my Grandpa Chub for that matter, since he passed away when I was just two years old.

I have always felt a special connection to my Grandma. I was born on her birthday and in the same town where she was born and raised. My mother named me after her. I always thought that had a little something to do with my mom's decision not to give me up for adoption. My Grandma was very active in the choir at church, played the piano and loved participating in music. I like to think that I got my love of music from her. When I was little I was convinced she was my guardian angel.

Now that I am an adult there are times I wish I could talk to her face to face. When I am feeling discouraged about what is going on in my life I wish I could ask her questions..........

Did you ever worry how you and your husband would raise seven children? Did you even want seven children? How did you cope with the chaos? How did you discipline? Were you worried you would screw them up and they'd grow up to be psycho killers? Did you ever want to bang your head against the wall?


Did you ever worry about life? Were you a worrier like me? My mom told me a story about a time she was talking to her dad, fretting about something, and he told her, "You worry just like your mom used to." My mom also remembers one of her brothers getting you a book called How to Stop Worrying and Start Living by Dale Carnegie. How did you power through your worries and fears?

Did you ever despair in your financial situation? I know that you and your husband were poor. However, your children never knew just how bad off they were until they were much older. How did you hide it from them? How did you provide a happy childhood for them? How did you get by? Did you lay in bed and night and soak your pillow with your tears like I have done? Did you rely on God's help? Did you ever fear the worst?

It is well known in our family that you were a devoted Catholic. You were very active in your parish. Did you ever have doubts in your faith? Did you ever have spiritual darkness? Did you ever wonder what direction God wanted you to go in your life? You lived in a town that was dominantly Protestant. How hard was it to hold on to your faith? Did you ever fall to your knees in sorrow and pain and beg God for help? Was there anything you questioned about the Catholic Church? How did you raise your children in the church? Were you strict?

What were your feelings when after six boys you finally got your daughter? Were you over the moon excited? Were you ever scared being a mom? Your own mother died when you were just six years old. Did you ever second guess yourself? Was it always your dream to be a mother?

Did you ever have dreams and hopes? When I was younger I had big dreams of being an actress. Did you ever want to be a musician or a writer? I hear stories of how much you loved to write and how you were one of the fastest typists ever. Did I get my love of writing from you? Did you ever want to travel? Did you ever feel trapped in small town with seven kids? Or were you content with life?


I've heard that your siblings were a little more financially well off than you were. Did that make you jealous? Did you long for a big beautiful home with nice things? Did you long to be free of financial worry? Did you ever worry your children would feel the sting of being poor?

Your seven children were not all born very close together. My oldest uncle was 20 years old when my mom, the youngest and only girl, was born. As they grew older their sibling bonds grew tighter and stronger. How did you instill in them how important family is? I am hoping and praying that my children have a strong bond growing up like my mom and her siblings. How did you do that?

One thing my uncles have stressed about you is that you were very charismatic and had lots of friends. You could meet a stranger and an hour later you had exchanged addresses and would correspond for years. So it seems that even if you were depressed or melancholy at times you hid it well. My mom gets stopped in the grocery store by older people who tell her how wonderful of a woman you were. You've been gone from this world for nearly 50 years. What an impact you must have made. Even though there aren't many photos of you, I am sure your smile was infectious. I bet your laugh was hearty and joyful.


What do you think of your family here on earth? Do we make you proud? Are you resting in peace knowing that your children and grandchildren are still quite close? Are you happy that we rejoice in life, revel in memories and are dedicated to family? Are you sad that no priest or nun has come out of the family like you always wanted? (I promise I'll work on that for you!) Do I make you proud?

From what I can tell you were a happy woman. You were a devoted daughter of God and loved the Catholic Church, but you were no Puritan. She enjoyed a good shaggy dog story. Your grandparents had come to America from Ireland, so I'm sure you had a lot of spunk and spitfire.



I wish I could have known you. I know someday if I get to heaven I can ask you these questions. Whenever one of my uncles passes away, I always imagine you are the first person to greet them on the other side. You were the first to see them come into this world; you are the first person to see them in the other world. Someday our entire family will be reunited again. Not just for a three day family reunion or a couple days for a funeral. We will be reunited forever. Being stuck with your family for all eternity? Sounds like hell for some people. But not for us. It will be a glorious banquet. A perpetual campfire to gather around. And Jesus and Mary and the saints will be there, too, which will make it even more grand.



You have left such a great legacy. Through your marriage to Grandpa Chub you had 7 children and 28 grandchildren. Your family keeps growing. You keep on living through us. Even though I can't ask you the questions I want to ask you, I can listen to the stories I hear, learn from your life, and try to live my life as you did- loving God, loving family and loving life.

2 comments:

Alan said...

She would'a been quite proud of you! By the way, I think her favorite song was "Galway Bay"...for what that's worth.

January said...

That was so beautiful. Thank you for sharing it. Grandmas are such special people, even if you don't get to meet them.

LinkWithin

Related Posts with Thumbnails