MAE JULIAN
The Priceless Connection
Sometimes, things present themselves when we least expect it. This account is one based on circumstance, and may never come again. My eldest grandson, Clay, is 14. I guess you know, for me, the sun rises and sets on him. All four of my grandchildren were here because of the blackouts in Louisville. Many people are going on their 5th day without electricity. We had one of the worst storms, reportedly, since the 60’s.‑ There are downed trees everywhere. Lots of damage was done, and families are doubling up, or going to shelters. We have electricity, but my daughter does not. She was at her home last night, and I had the kids. Another storm rolled in, just after dark.‑ It was a magnificent storm. Lots of lightning and torrents of rain.‑ I guess I have mentioned before that I love storms and have taught my grandchildren to love them, too. The living room was exploding with light, again and again, as giant fingers of lightning bolts streaked across the sky.‑‑ I told the kids we were turning out the lights. These are such special opportunities to talk. I had nothing planned to say, but I began to talk to Clay and Lulu. The other kids were in other rooms on computers. Once in a while, an opportunity will present itself to have an in-depth conversation with one or more of the kids. Such was this night.
I began telling Clay and Lulu about my dad, their great-grandfather. They know that he was a fireman, and that he died, but little else. I began talking about him, and I found that one thing led to another, as my mind reeled back. On the day of his funeral, the heavens cut loose, much like that night. That’s what began my story. I was at odds with Dad when he died. We had been close all of my life, but I had disappointed him, and I knew it all the way to my bones, to my soul. I wanted to be a nurse, but I never knew how much HE wanted me to become a nurse, until I told him I was dropping out of nursing school to get married. Somehow, I thought that he would be happy, but the look on his face is burned into my memory forever. Disappointment in me. It was hard on me then, and it has been hard on me since. He died in 1960. Back then if you wanted to get married they would not let you stay in school. It seems archaic now, but it was so. It was ten years before I went back to school and got my diploma for nursing. I regretted that so much that he could not have lived to see it. I needed him to know that I had not been a failure, after all.
I continued this in-depth conversation with Clay and Lulu telling them that they must never let bad feelings linger, because if you do, and death comes, then you have lost your chance to ever make things right again. Once someone is gone, the chance to say, “I’m sorry” is gone forever. Clay, with his dark tan, dark hair, and dark eyes, were in soft contrast with Lulu’s platinum hair, blue eyes, and fair skin. Her back was leaned up against his bare chest, and he had an arm around her with their fingers loosely intertwined. They were casual and close. Familiar with each other. Bonded. Brother and sister listening to an account that was long before their time. The story of a great grandfather, and the sorrow of his daughter, from so long ago. They must have seen me with new eyes. I was not their grandmother so much as I was his daughter.‑ Lulu never spoke a word, but sat against Clay with her right thumb in her mouth and her quilt hugged over her left arm…a quilt that I made for her when she was born. It is almost a rag from the loving of it.‑ I always thank God for those red-letter days or nights where true communication takes place. I will always cherish last night. I wish I could have bronzed them just as they were, intertwined, attentive, with the storm raging outside. I felt within me the continuation of generations. One telling of the last. How did I get so lucky? How blessed I am to have these precious children. How fortunate I am to have had my dad. I told them to not be sad when I die, because they will know that, after all these years, I’m with my dad working things out that should have been worked out long ago. The storm continued and my account was interrupted only by a question now and then. It was a wonderful night. I love these kids so much.‑ All of them…each for their differences and uniqueness.‑ Whatever did I do to have God’s face shine upon me, thus?”
Mae
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