by J. Forbes

Created on: May 20, 2008

Legs

On the way there, my Mother said, "When you visit her grave, you do it for yourself. She doesn't know you are there." As a 15 year old, I was hoping that perhaps some part of me believed that she did know, and that she knew how much of an impact she had on me, both before and after her death. Maybe I visit her grave, as I do every year, because I know that she too would have stood next to my grave, placing bright yellow tulips next to my name. At the time, I hoped that while I stood over my grandmother, who lay peacefully below the ground, that I would somehow find her alive, waiting to be discovered. All I discovered was a fire of sadness inside of me that I could only keep from spreading by the quick, fierce movements of my feet to pavement.

I suppose I suffered the same pain that many children have suffered when they have had a grandparent die. I think the biggest blow to me as an adolescent was in the December following her Death in 2003. I was Christmas shopping for the whole family with my Mother as we did every year, and I realized that the red sweater I had picked out for my grandmother would have to be put back on the rack. My Mother realized what I was doing. "Jay, what are you doing? Why aren't you getting that for your grandmother?" I just stood there, not understanding what she was trying to do. "You can give it to her when we visit her the next time," she declared, putting the sweater into the cart as if it wasn't completely abnormal to do.
I can still remember my Grandmother going to a high school track meet of mine about 7 months before she died, in the middle of May. The weather was absolutely perfect for running an 800 meter race. It was in the mid sixties, half sun and half clouds, almost as if the pair had made an agreement with each other. At the sound of the gun, the other 6 runners and I took off around the track, our different color uniforms meshing together like finger paints. The first lap went by faster than usual, as my watch read 62.5 seconds. I was in third place at the start of the second lap, struggling to stay with the pack in front me. When we reached the final 200 meters of the race, I looked up into the bleachers to see my grandmother smiling back at me. I'd like to tell you I won that race, and that seeing my grandmother there made it happen. Unfortunately, it didn't happen that way, and I finished in third place, with a time of 2:09. 7. When we got home that night, the two of us had a long talk about winning and losing.

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