My grandmother, Ester Viola Rawls Erickson, died earlier this month at 94 years old. I've spent a fair amount of time and ink since then trying to put my feelings about her, her incredible life and her death into words, but everything that comes out sounds overly sentimental and sweet, and that was not my grandmother. She was a tough, stubborn woman who could sniff b.s. from a mile away. She was a writer, too, a really good one, which would make honoring her with fluffy nonsense all the more disrespectful. In time, I'm sure I'll be able to sort things out and cobble together a tribute that's remotely worthy of her.
But for now I will just say this: I loved her. And I hope that as time passes I will prove to have more of her in me than just my fair skin and freckles.
JEM
P.S. Anyone interested can read an the first few pages of her novel "The Ones We Love" here.
Sorry to hear about your grandma, Jaz. It sounds like the two of you have a lot in common. BTW, how is your novel coming along?
ReplyDeleteOh Jaz, sorry to hear about that. But I am so intrigued to hear more about her, I hope you'll write more about her here on your blog. We love our relatives for all their uniqueness don't we? Sometimes its the gritty traits that are more endearing.
ReplyDeleteWow! What a woman! Loved the pictures. They leave room for alot of explanation. You're the person to do that. Can't wait til you publish her life comments.
ReplyDeleteYou haven't written here in a very long time.
ReplyDeleteJEM, wherever have you gone? My life is incomplete without your humor and beautiful pictures! My sister and I miss reading about your daily adventures in Germany. Your most recent post was lovely, and we hope you are getting through this emotional time with the help of your loved ones. Please update soon so we know you, Jethro, and Jake are doing well. Take care.
ReplyDeleteFaithful reader, BL