Kim Nelson Writes

I learned much of what I know from my 98-year old grandmother. First in her lap, and then in her kitchen and garden, I learned a lot. I heard words and songs, stories, prayers and poems from a woman to whom most sound remained elusive. Deaf from age eight, when chicken pox, measles, and scarlet fever joined forces to ravage her body and damage her auditory nerves, my Gram introduced me to both the wonder and the power of words. The relationship coalesced, and I’ve had a love affair with the written word ever since.

Outdoors, I learned the joy of working in tandem with the seasons, with the earth, with indeed, the universe.  I learned how to grow almost anything from seed or seedling, to compost, to harvest, to cook and preserve. Then Gram taught me how to conserve and re-build resources, to encourage and support the natural cycles of life. Later, when my life challenged me in ways never expected, I took refuge in the garden. The bounty of Gram’s lessons filled not only my pantry, but also my soul, repeatedly renewing my spirit. Through her actions and examples, I learned to open my heart and my mind, and to anticipate and embrace the promise of abundance and hope.

The lessons I learned in Gram’s vegetable plot and flower beds, the truths discovered in her orchard and kitchen, have carried me through lean times, both financial and emotional. I learned to have faith, to nurture patience and to see the unique wonder and beauty in every living thing. I learned to discover individual value and to look for the good and praise it. I learned to love without condition, accept despite disagreement, release judgment and anger, and to walk with my head held high. My gram taught me a lot.

She taught me how to fry the chicken everyone wants at a potluck, the secret to a good “biscuit hand,” and how to make the best vanilla ice cream and deep dark fudge. She taught me to play Aggravation and Scrabble and Kings in The Corners, and how to be gracious in victory and defeat. She taught how to baste and hem and sew a straight seam, keeping the stitches close and tight and the fabric pucker-free. She imparted the value of long, drawn-out suppers where conversation and love flow back and forth across the table just as surely as the tide rolls in and out. So many lessons. Blessed gifts.

Pondering all that Gram generously bestowed, I’m behooved to ask “What was of greatest value?” The answer is quick, pure and true. The best gift given, the most valuable lesson learned is the wonder of Love. Unconditional, unfettered, unabashed Love. Because she loved me so completely, I learned to love that way too. Lucky me.

Facing the latest in a long line of temporal assaults, my sweet Gram left the hospital yesterday for a physical rehab facility, following a fall and a broken hip. Always soft-spoken, non-judgmental, forgiving and accepting, Gram (also diagnosed with Alzheimer’s) has recently displayed some atypical characteristics. Pain, frustration and dementia pushed her to “damn” the physical therapist “to hell”  (!) when he made her walk just 24-hours after surgery.  With a wide smile and dancing eyes, the young PT who already calls Gram “Grandma,” said to my mom, “She’s the feistiest patient I have. She’s amazing us all.”

That’s my Gram ~ Amazing.

Always has been.

Love…