My gramma raised me from birth. When she was 64 and I was 14, my father moved us 2,000 miles away and never looked back, visited, or so much as sent a card to his parents, both of whom lived another 10 years. My father was a hard man, but his mother was love personified. She taught me almost everything that comforts me in life. My father made me stand up on my own, and independence is one kind of strength. But gramma’s love, kindness and protection was and will always be my greatest strength. Our culture suffers a terrible and continuing loss, a dissociation of magnitudes, in neglecting the font of wisdom in our elders. When we forgot them, we forgot the meaning of honor. In fearing death, we forgot the greatest part of love, too.
My gramma raised me from birth. When she was 64 and I was 14, my father moved us 2,000 miles away and never looked back, visited, or so much as sent a card to his parents, both of whom lived another 10 years. My father was a hard man, but his mother was love personified. She taught me almost everything that comforts me in life. My father made me stand up on my own, and independence is one kind of strength. But gramma’s love, kindness and protection was and will always be my greatest strength. Our culture suffers a terrible and continuing loss, a dissociation of magnitudes, in neglecting the font of wisdom in our elders. When we forgot them, we forgot the meaning of honor. In fearing death, we forgot the greatest part of love, too.