Gone But Not Really

For years, Jeremy has talked about starting a garden.  Years.  This year, though, it really happened.  I was never sure why he wanted a garden, but I let him have his hopes.  When it went up a few weeks ago (maybe a month, I'm honestly not sure), I was surprised.  I didn't understand what was different this year from the previous years.  But in the last week, the universe has made itself clear - Nanny.  This garden is for Jeremy's grandmother, Nanny.  She died last spring, and he misses her.  I never knew Nanny when she had a garden, but stories say it was one of the best in the world.  This garden is Jeremy's  nod to his Nanny and the memories of her.  

This realization made me realize how much of what we do everyday (by we, I mean both the human race and my husband and I - it's a collective we) is based on memories or behaviors of those who we have lost.  Here's the obvious ones in my life.

Jeremy has a garden to remind himself of his Nanny.

I have iced coffee and ham to remind myself of my grandmother, maternal side.  Grandma Tarleton ALWAYS had a ham in the oven when we arrived from the VERY long drive to Roswell, NM.   It smelled so good.  So. Very. Good.  Now, when the kids or Jeremy leave for any amount of time or I know I have someone coming over or I'm just feeling nostalgic, I make a ham.  My Grandma was also the first person I ever saw drink iced coffee.  In the morning, she made a pot of coffee and drank it all.  Then she made a second pot (around 10 AM), then drank half of that one.  At 3 PM or so, she filled a glass with ice, poured her coffee over it and added a splash of milk.  Then she sat on her back porch, vines covering the pergola and plastic turf covering the concrete, and enjoyed her iced coffee.  

Jeremy has fried burritos from his father.  Apparently, Jerry was a HUGE fan of fried gas station burritos.  This love he passed on to my husband, and daughter; both are convinced that some of the best food comes from a greasy fryer in a gas station that may or may not change the grease regularly.  The irony here is that they both have "bad guts" - if there is a stomach virus within a block, they will catch it.  Sadly, that does not deter them from these culinary cesspools.  

I have follow through from my father.  My father truly believed that "we remember what is important to us."  Whenever he made a promise, he kept it.  Regardless of what he had going on.  The only exception I ever saw to this was shortly after his last major heart surgery, a quadruple bypass.  One of the side effects of this surgery is short term memory loss.  I was graduating college, and my father, in all of his wisdom, decided I needed to address my college graduation invitations by hand in calligraphy.  When I mentioned I had no pens for such an undertaking, he said he would get me some.  Then he forgot.  I was SHOCKED.  And he was so disappointed... in himself.  He immediately got up and bought me some.  I don't think he ever forgot anything else.  

From my grandfather, maternal side, I have my love of New Orleans.  This is a recent discovery - I love that place.  I go every year (if possible) because I feel like my history is there.  He grew up there, and my mother only smiles when she speaks of her times there.  

From Amber, Jeremy and I remember to smile and enjoy our life.  The best description I can give of Amber is that she was just like Phoebe from Friends.  She always smiled and would do anything for her friends.  We lost her in a bizarre moment 5 years ago... she left with us the reminder to enjoy life.  Live for the now.  Because there may not be a later.  

That's all I can think of now, other than my children's names: Anna Michelle and John Talmedge.  My girl is named after my grandparents (maternal).  Michelle was my grandfather's name, spelled: Mischael; it was french.  Anna was my grandmother's first name.  John was Jeremy's paternal grandfather's name and Talmedge is his Paw's middle name.  

Oh yeah, my name.  I was named after my father's sister, who died as an infant.  Apparently, when I was on my way, there was a family feud between my parents and my father's parents.  I was the peace offering.  It made my grandmother Crow happy.  

Interesting thoughts really.  So much of us is what came before and what we observed through those who have left us.  I am sure I miss subtleties everyday... I'll have to look out more.