My mom told me this morning that we lost my grandmother last night. She had been sick for a little while and age had been doing its dirty work for a few years. She was 86.
My grandmother met my grandfather when they were both in high school and they were soon married. It was only a few years after this that my mother was born. I don't know very much about her middle-aged years.
My head has not come to terms with the reality of losing her, but my heart feels the sting. I’ve always loved her.
She was a very confident and self-assured woman. She always knew that she knew best. If you didn’t know that, she would make sure you did. She was a one-of-a-kind personality.
While my relationship with her was not filled with many of the classic poignant moments or witty remarks that one may expect, she was a mainstay and I always knew she was there. I wish I had a deeper relationship with her and I wish that I had been more forward in making that happen. I've always been grateful for her effort in raising my mother and the care she took of my grandfather.
Even without speaking very much, she taught me many valuable lessons that will pass through me to my children for years to come. For that, I am indebted to her greatly.
As I share what she taught to me with my own children, I will be able to watch with joy as they become little embodiments of the good she shared with me. As her lessons become alive in the people around me, I will know that her name will live on brilliantly gleaming and that I never really have to lose her after all.
Connie Iaricci Natale – July 25, 1933 - May 10, 2020