I haven’t been sleeping very well this past week. I have, as my favourite author would say, Monkey Mind! When the lights go out, my mind seems to swing from one branch to the next in a flurry of random thought until I suddenly notice that it’s the middle of the night and despite my rapidly closing eyelids, I’m still wide awake! I have a lot on my mind right now and it appears that my conscious is in a rather big hurry to figure these things out. My currently exhausted body is starting to pay the price for it.
Anyways, as I was awake last night, I started to think about my Grandma Mae. It was actually in the midst of reading a new book that made me think of her; Steve was sleeping soundly next to me and when I opened up my book, the spine make a little creaking sound and I could suddenly smell the fresh new pages. I felt like I was instantaneously brought back to my childhood!
My grandmother lived with me and my Mom for awhile when I was in elementary school. Her bedroom was at the front of our house and she had this one chair that she sat in all day long. It was strategically positioned in the corner of her room so that she could look out the front windows onto the street as well as look out her bedroom door at what else was going on in the house. My memories of my grandmother are numerous and plenty but because I was so young, they are also rather selective. My time spent with her was always wonderful but the time that she spent with us in our home was what I remember most.
My grandmother was a hilarious woman! She was always very old to me – very fragile in her own way. Her skin seemed thin, almost translucent, and her frame seemed so tiny. She moved slowly and spoke quietly…she was one of the gentlest people I’ve ever known. Contrary to that though, she also smoked like a chimney, was content to live off a diet made up only of chocolate chip cookies and she could drink anyone under the table! I’m not kidding…this woman knew how to hold her liquor!!
What I remember most though was her love of stories. She loved books and she read all the time. She would sit in her brown chair in the corner with one of her cats on her lap and she would literally read for hours on end, going through countless books at any given time. Her room was always filled with books from the library that had those plastic protective covers on them and the card in the back that had the return due date stamped on them! Her room smelled like books and I loved it!
I’m sure that my love of the written word has so much to do with having had her in my life.
When her eyesight started to go, she acquired this huge magnifying glass with a light on it to help her read. Eventually her eyesight disappeared all together and she was forced to listen to books on tape instead. I know that she still enjoyed the stories but I also know that she missed feeling the pages between her fingers, seeing the words in front of her and most of all, that unique smell of ink on paper. Her hearing faded with the time but she listened to her books on tape until the very end. It was sad for me to know that old age cost my grandmother one of the things that she loved the most. She still had her taste buds though and that meant that she still had her chocolate chip cookies!
So I found myself thinking of her last night as I cracked the spine of my new book. I’m reading Water for Elephants right now. The author, Sara Gruen, grew up in London, Ontario and went to the University of Ottawa…just like me! I wonder if our common journeys and the fact that I received three copies of it for my birthday means someone is trying to tell me something?!?! Clearly, the universe is insistent that I read this and what can I say…I’m always happy to oblige!
My book doesn’t quite smell the same way that my grandmother’s books did but few of them ever do. You have to dig deep in the old piles at the library to get that smell anymore. But I certainly enjoyed my Monkey Mind a little bit more yesterday as I remembered that wonderful woman who unknowingly brought literature and stories into my life.
It’s comforting to know that anytime I feel sleepless in the night, I can simply crack the spine and know that I’m not reading alone. She probably would have been up in the middle of the night too! Reading a good book no doubt!
Anyways, as I was awake last night, I started to think about my Grandma Mae. It was actually in the midst of reading a new book that made me think of her; Steve was sleeping soundly next to me and when I opened up my book, the spine make a little creaking sound and I could suddenly smell the fresh new pages. I felt like I was instantaneously brought back to my childhood!
My grandmother lived with me and my Mom for awhile when I was in elementary school. Her bedroom was at the front of our house and she had this one chair that she sat in all day long. It was strategically positioned in the corner of her room so that she could look out the front windows onto the street as well as look out her bedroom door at what else was going on in the house. My memories of my grandmother are numerous and plenty but because I was so young, they are also rather selective. My time spent with her was always wonderful but the time that she spent with us in our home was what I remember most.
My grandmother was a hilarious woman! She was always very old to me – very fragile in her own way. Her skin seemed thin, almost translucent, and her frame seemed so tiny. She moved slowly and spoke quietly…she was one of the gentlest people I’ve ever known. Contrary to that though, she also smoked like a chimney, was content to live off a diet made up only of chocolate chip cookies and she could drink anyone under the table! I’m not kidding…this woman knew how to hold her liquor!!
What I remember most though was her love of stories. She loved books and she read all the time. She would sit in her brown chair in the corner with one of her cats on her lap and she would literally read for hours on end, going through countless books at any given time. Her room was always filled with books from the library that had those plastic protective covers on them and the card in the back that had the return due date stamped on them! Her room smelled like books and I loved it!
I’m sure that my love of the written word has so much to do with having had her in my life.
When her eyesight started to go, she acquired this huge magnifying glass with a light on it to help her read. Eventually her eyesight disappeared all together and she was forced to listen to books on tape instead. I know that she still enjoyed the stories but I also know that she missed feeling the pages between her fingers, seeing the words in front of her and most of all, that unique smell of ink on paper. Her hearing faded with the time but she listened to her books on tape until the very end. It was sad for me to know that old age cost my grandmother one of the things that she loved the most. She still had her taste buds though and that meant that she still had her chocolate chip cookies!
So I found myself thinking of her last night as I cracked the spine of my new book. I’m reading Water for Elephants right now. The author, Sara Gruen, grew up in London, Ontario and went to the University of Ottawa…just like me! I wonder if our common journeys and the fact that I received three copies of it for my birthday means someone is trying to tell me something?!?! Clearly, the universe is insistent that I read this and what can I say…I’m always happy to oblige!
My book doesn’t quite smell the same way that my grandmother’s books did but few of them ever do. You have to dig deep in the old piles at the library to get that smell anymore. But I certainly enjoyed my Monkey Mind a little bit more yesterday as I remembered that wonderful woman who unknowingly brought literature and stories into my life.
It’s comforting to know that anytime I feel sleepless in the night, I can simply crack the spine and know that I’m not reading alone. She probably would have been up in the middle of the night too! Reading a good book no doubt!
1 comment:
In my mind’s eye, I can see Grandma Mae sitting and reading Genny’s fine elegant prose and description drinking in every word and nuance, yes smoking at the same time and yes with an export beside her, sipping in a curious way, wondering why she was so important to be a focus of prose. She would be a bit embarrassed about reading about herself. The world did not center on her, but the others around her. That is as she saw it, not judgmentally but caringly. From favorite authors such as John Carre, to the Toronto Telegram she devoured large amounts of material on a daily basis. One day we were alone and she was facing pretty serious surgery later that day. Far from comforting her, she comforted me. She pulled out an old Bible and shared with me that she had actually read this cover to cover as well. She was not afraid. We spoke of many things that day, alone, time standing still. Grandma; Mae Victoria Sinclair we toast you! Uncle Neil
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