She became a grandmother when I was born and when I first made noises, I dubbed her Mommom (and her husband Daddad, of course). Summers at her house, Asticou, on Cape Cod and holidays at her home in Bethesda, Maryland was ample time spent with the matriarch (and her four sons’ families). When I went to college, the time together dwindled, sometimes to just a day or two in the summer. When Daddad died almost 17 years ago, I lost my connection to her almost completely; I moved to Brooklyn, and started my own life. But when I had my first child, I felt immediately reconnected to all my ancestors; my fundamental appreciation for my own parents grew immensely, and I thought about them as kids, being raised by their own parents. My understanding of family and generations was suddenly and obviously revealed and I knew that I had to re-open communications with my two living grandmothers. One of them was already struggling with dementia and made long-distance conversations challenging, and when I did actually travel to visit her in Florida four years ago, she died just before I arrived.
Mommom was great to talk to on the phone, though, and I soon realized that she shared my progressive politics and values. She knew current events and cultural evolutions, and her sense of goodness and justice aligned more closely with my own than almost anyone else in my family! But she had a depth of perspective and historical experience that I did not, from her extra 50 years of life. She had seen it worse in many ways, yet never so bad in others. She was appalled by Trump and his followers and whenever I needed to commiserate, I would call her. When Ruth Bader Ginsburg died, I was devastated and she was the first person I reached out to for comfort. COVID was tough for her, as she was completely isolated with only one friend who she would see and play cards with on a daily basis. When the vaccine arrived, she was able to see visitors occasionally and a few months ago, I called and made plans to bring the family for a visit on April 10. She was very excited! I felt like in her isolated world, news of a visit brought a special happiness and I couldn’t wait to see her. But on March 12, she was found unconscious on her floor from a stroke. She regained consciousness but lost most of her ability to live independently. She has some bad days mixed in with a few good ones before she finally passed on last week. I regret not visiting sooner, but I am incredibly grateful that I had the opportunity to communicate regularly with her over the past few years.
I shocked myself with a positive COVID test on Wednesday morning. I had a sore throat but was ready to go to work when I was inspired to take a test. I immediately quarantined myself and to this point, no other family members have been infected. My symptoms are mild but the psychological toll of not being able to see my family or friends is heavy. I know it’s only a few more days (today is day 6) but I am constantly thinking about how much it means to hug my family and be present in their lives. This quarantine won’t last forever, but neither will we. Make connections while we can and enjoy every moment together in this brief and precious gift of life!