Just in time for Mother's Day:
The other day I was doing some Buddhist prayers and had the strangest moment. It's actually "chanting" but that word can be a little off-putting to people. It's no different than a Christian saying a prayer or singing hymns - I promise there is no virgin or goat or virgin goat sacrifice involved. But while I was chanting (let's just use the word. I've lost you by now if it scares you anyways) I wasn't really thinking about anything in particular, just sending positive vibes out into the universe. For just one moment, the scent of my grandmother wafted by me. She passed away when I was 15, but the way she smelled when she gave you a hug or tucked you into bed was so distinct. It was the most alarming & comforting thing to experience in that moment.
It was the cross between her natural scent - that smell that good mothers & grandmothers have that makes you feel like everything is going to be OK - & butterscotch. When I was little, my mom would take me up to see my grandma (her mother) and a few of my mom's brothers who had moved up to help my grandma out. My grandma & I would do crafts together and when I was really little I got baths in the kitchen sink. At night she would pull out her butterscotch candies or Werther's and we would climb into bed & she would read me a story.
The funny thing about me having that moment while I was chanting is that my grandma would turn in her grave if she knew I was Buddhist. I probably wouldn't even tell her. She was a devout Methodist, but in the best sense because she practiced what she preached, took care of her family and was not one to openly judge people for who they were. She fostered kids, even though she had seven of her own, partially for the extra money, but also because she knew it was the right thing to do, to take care of others when you were in a better spot. Poor and leasing farm land may not seem like the lap of luxury, but compared to the lives these kids were leaving, it was. I mean, she had her opinions, as we all do, but she wasn't one to stick her nose in your face and tell you how horrible & damned to hell you were.
The one really mean story I remember her telling was about a pastor's wife who was extremely obese but incredibly judgmental of EVERYONE. Apparently she showed up to one of the church goers homes and was giving her typical condescending spiel, when she sat down in one of their kitchen chairs and it broke beneath her. She was quiet the rest of the visit. My grandma got a kick out of that because let's face it, that was karma kicking that lady in the ass! See, my grandma and I still saw eye to eye :)
Glad she still stopped in to say hello & let me know everything is going to be OK, even if I wasn't practicing the way she would have.
1 comment:
Man, I loved Gramma Gowan:) She was kind of quiet and we only got some glimpses into the person she was, but she was one badass grandma! Some of my happiest childhood memories are because of that woman.
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