Photograph
I am looking at a picture of my paternal Grandmother. I took this picture a few years back when we drove up to the summer cottage in Ontario, Canada, just her and me.
Even then she didn't really seem herself.
Grandma had always made the trip up to the cottage with her husband, my Grandfather, who passed away a year and some change before. This was her first time making the eight hour drive without him. My family didn't want her going up alone, so I volunteered to accompany her on this trip. The only other passenger in our “burnished almond” PT Cruiser was a Shepherd-Lab mix by the name of Duchess. Now, those who know me fairly well know that I'm a reasonably talkative person when I am comfortable, but I've never been particularly good at drawing out more reticent company. The larger part of the trip was spent listening to NPR in an effort to cover up the silence that kept gaping between us. I knew that Grandma loved Grandpa very much, and as I sat there, I couldn't fathom the loss she was experiencing. I felt wholly inadequate to fill such a void.
I love my Grandmother, but we have never been particularly close. We've never spent much time conversing one on one. I had no idea where to begin making a conversation, and all my efforts fizzled out after one or two volleys.
The week we spent together felt a little like a zen retreat. Quiet and contemplative.
The weather was beautiful, if a little cold. I took hundreds of pictures. Red Bay is simply one of the loveliest places on our little planet, and work had kept me away from it the past couple of years. We had some adventures in cooking, read a great deal, and went on many a rambling walk with Duchess. At the end of our week we drove home, listening more than speaking again. I am glad I had that week with her.
In any case, I had been looking through my old photographs trying to find something to write about for my lenten penitence, when I saw this.
It spoke to me especially because since it was taken, Grandma has had two minor strokes. She survives, but mentally, she's not really with us any more. I feel this picture captures what I've observed in her since Grandpa died. Grandma seemed to feel left behind and in this picture, she seems to be waiting for something, for someone. She seems to lean just a little, trying to see just a little farther, seeking something in that bright and distant horizon.
Duchess, who is also pictured, only recently passed away. I worried that, without her companion, Grandma would leave soon after. Thankfully she has the company of her children and even grandchildren. Since Grandpa passed, our family has made a great effort to make sure that she is not alone. Especially now that she has grown so childlike and helpless in her dementia.
There are a lot of things I still need to work out about my feelings concerning Grandma. Hopefully I've depressed you all enough for now. I don't mean to be so melancholy, but winter does that to you sometimes.
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For those of you interested in seeing those hundreds of pictures I took on this trip...
Canada 2007