The Grace in being grateful

Carla Axtman

(I originally wrote this in 2004. I've made some minor tweaks but its essentially the same piece. Happy Thanksgiving to all)

The most formative person in my life when I was a child was my great grandmother.

Having been raised in an extended family where alcoholism was rampant, my Grandma Grace was the calm for me in a sea of dysfunction. She was strong and smart and loved me very, very much. My mother and father weren't alcoholics...but my maternal grandparents and my uncles were. The family was always fighting and in turmoil.

My parents loved me deeply and took good care of me. But they were very controlling. For a child who was extremely strong-willed and stubborn..it could be a pretty rocky place to be.

Grandma Grace saw my stubborn intelligence and my willful need to carve my own path from the beginning. When my mother refused to let me get dirty because it would mess up my clothes, Grandma Grace would send me out to the garden with a set of spoons and a big jar of water, telling me not to come back in until I'd made her at least three mud pies.

When we went to the grocery store, she'd put me up on the mechanical horse, do her shopping and come by every few minutes to pump nickels into the horse. She gave me "coffee" at breakfast (milk and sugar with a shot of coffee) and showed me how to use the old fashioned wringer washing machine she kept in her basement. She read me stories from the Bible and sang to me while I sat on her lap. I can remember pressing my head into her chest, listening to her old lady voice singing just over the sound of her heartbeat. "You Are My Sunshine" was the special tune we sang together.

We lived about two hours away from her but we'd go visit almost every weekend. Even though she saw me often, I'd still get letters from her all the time. I have many of those letters, tied up with a ribbon, set aside in a special place. Sometimes I take them out and read them...not even so much for what they say but just to touch the paper and examine her scratchy, practically illegible handwriting. It makes me feel close to her.

This is the time of year where we're asked to remind ourselves what we're thankful for. I have many, many things on that list. But my Grandma Grace stands out as someone who taught me something so precious: unconditional, unfettered love. And even though I only had her for my first ten years, all I have to do is find the little rag doll she so lovingly made for me (it sits out on a table near my bed) and the beautiful letters she wrote to me to remember that love my whole life.

I'll always be grateful to her.

By Carla Axtman Nov. 26, 2009