Tulips, Laughter, Lace, and Vintage Goodbyes

This blog was going to be designated for classroom stories only, but today I make an exception! I had a substitute teacher in my class last week as my family said "See ya later," to my grandmother...a legacy, lady, and life story like no other.  The following thoughts were just a few I pulled together to be read at her funeral. I hope my students realize that the best subjects for their writing are the people and places that make up their "everyday." There are stories all around if only they ask the right questions and open their eyes to see....

Family.  You get absolutely no say in them. You don’t get to pick. You find yourself at family reunions and holiday gatherings, and – let’s be honest – everyone in this room at times has wondered how you could possibly even be related to these people! But then…out of nowhere, you get these glimpses of just what unconditional family is all about, and you are thankful to have a last name that makes you a part of their group.

Today may not be about him, but I think he is worth mentioning. I never got to meet my grandfather. I heard stories about William Howard Atherton.  I watched my own dad swell with pride talking about him. I saw pictures. I even found his name on one of the memorials in Washington, D.C.  But…I never met him…and oh, he has missed so much. When he left this world, he left behind a wife and five kids to survive on their own without him….and the way they have lived those lives probably has surpassed what he ever even hoped or imagined for them.

Clara….my Memaw…would have made him breathtakingly proud. With a pair of scissors and a couple hundred cans of hairspray, she mastered the bouffant and the beehive to make a better life for her kids.  With her famous sage dressing or her unmatched coconut cake, she lured families in to be together during the holidays.  She gave her grandchildren the childhood adventure that we simply called “The Cabin.” Wearing that vintage green terry cloth jacket, she could fish off the pontoon by morning and make taco stacks by night….all things that are missed each and every time the cabin is open these days. She hosted Easter egg hunts. She planted tulips. She bowled. She quilted. She yardsaled like a champ even before HGTV made it the cool vintage thing to do. She traveled. She brought back some pretty interesting souvenirs from her travels. She had arguments with H.L. that would make a grown man giggle.  She asked about “special friends.” Let’s be real….she is STILL asking some of us about those today.  She had fun.  She took risks….both through her bright, sparkly fashion statements and through the ever so unique pink curb appeal of her home. More importantly, she took risks in life… and she encouraged others to do the same.

The greatest of her legacy, though…the part that would bring my grandfather the most pride…is seated in the pews today. My Memaw raised heroes. Not the kind that wear capes and masks, but the kind that show up in the cold to help you start your car. The kind that prove to you that your oversized furniture WILL fit up the stairs in your new house if you just have the right team to get it there. The kind of heroes that go out of their way to help strangers. The kind that are the first to speak when they see people they know, and the kind that continue to speak highly of those people even after they walk away.  The kind that share anything and everything with anybody and everybody. The kind of heroes that not only say, “Call me if you need help,” but that show up to help without ever being called. The kind that show up at the ER knowing that the visitor limit doesn’t seem to take into account the Mom-to-children ratio of the family. The kind that still ask each other to hunt and fish and even golf… knowing all along that some siblings are better at that golf thing than others. The kind of risk-taking heroes that will somewhat patiently let a daughter take 8,000 pictures in the boat…even when the fish are biting. The kind of heroes that give time and effort and security like it will never run out.  When people say, “Oh, he’s one of the good ones,” or “Oh, she’s one of the good ones,” they are clearly talking about people like Memaw’s kids, and those kids just weren’t raised by accident.

He certainly would have been proud everyday of the people Memaw raised, but the past few years would have made my grandfather the proudest of all. His children…sacrificed. They sacrificed time and events and sleep to make sure that their Mom received the best possible care. They bathed her. They fed her. They knew the people at hospitals certainly meant well, but they just didn’t have the touch or the patience of Memaw’s own children. They stayed with her. They talked to her. They bought her snazzy pajamas to make sure her fashion streak continued. They scheduled and attended doctor’s appointments that were necessary. They scheduled and attended beautician appointments that might not have been necessary, but that they knew would have been more important to her than the ones at the doc.  They made certain of her attendance at family gatherings. From Derby hats to patriotic stripes, when they brought her to a party, they made sure she dressed the part. They made her comfortable. They included her. They celebrated her milestones and rallied together during her setbacks.  Even in her last moments, I think she was right where she wanted to be. Some said it would be serene for her if she went in her sleep, but she wasn’t going to have that! Memaw would have expected absolutely nothing less than to be riding shotgun down Clinton Road one last time sitting next to her son. Simply put, my Memaw raised her children to appreciate HOME, and they surrounded her with it to the very end.

No, I never got to meet my grandfather. I didn’t get to hear his words, watch his expressions, or tap into his thoughts….and yet this I know. He and Memaw created a family that the grandkids aren’t just proud to be related to, but one we are immensely proud to call our HOME. My grandfather would have looked at his children sitting in these pews today, and he would have been the one swelling with pride. When he couldn’t do the job himself, those Atherton kids took the BEST care of his bride.  I can almost hear him say... “You can rest now, kids. You did good….you did really… really good.”