Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

My grandmother has the reputation of certainly being her own person, funny, and maybe a little bit crazy. She's always been crazy, I think, (I'm saying this very affectionately, by the way). Well, she has been a bit sick lately and truly seemed to be "crazy" for a moment, but I'll also venture to say I'm not very surprised. If you know Ma (pronounced MAW), you know that the woman has a flare for drama and a reputation for not only stretching the truth...but sometimes inventing the truth as she sees it.

We thought she suffered a mini stroke the other day, but that is not what it was, and it has turned out to be several things. I am very sorry she is sick, and I have said my prayers, and I have been reflecting today on a woman I have known all my life, and yet, seemingly know very little about. What I do know is hard to decipher as fact or fiction, since there is a fine line that Ma walks in that regard. Oh sure, I know the general facts and the larger events on the time line of her life. Her father died when she was 2, there was the Christmas she got 2 bicycles for Christmas, she and Granddaddy got married and she got pregnant with Candy on the honeymoon (so she says ;) ) . However, I'm talking about the little things...the little stories and antedotes we all have or the insight and honest revelations that one has upon reaching a certain age. Sometimes you just aren't meant to know the truth. And maybe you don't even really want to...maybe the made up stories are simply funnier.

Below is an excerpt from a play we all know and love (or hate-whatever your opinion may be, for we take into consideration everyone's opinions here at LACEY'S):

Juliet:
'Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone—
And yet no farther than a wan-ton's bird,
That lets it hop a little from his hand,
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a silken thread plucks it back again,
So loving-jealous of his liberty.

Romeo:
I would I were thy bird.

Juliet:
Sweet, so would I,
Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow. [Exit above]

Romeo And Juliet Act 2, scene 2, 176–185

(*Disclaimer, I cannot change the font on this...and I tried...bear/bare with me please)

Even as a small child, I remember Ma always saying "Parting is such sweet sorrow" whenever I would leave her house, or she would leave mine, or she'd say it to pretty much anyone who was leaving from somewhere. It wasn't until I took an entire class on Shakespeare while I was at Auburn that I discovered where the saying originated from. I'm not sure that she knew. Maybe some of you knew this, if not, well here is fun literary fact to know and tell. I started thinking about this today...."Parting is such sweet sorrow" and you can apply it to so many things...all of which I don't suppose we'll delve into today, but I was thinking about the way in which a person parts with their own mind. Obviously, I thought about this because of Ma, but not just her, her husband and my Granddaddy has Alzheimer's, and the parting of him and his mind is slow and painful to watch. However, this happens to so many of the elderly that we know. It is either gradual, like Granddaddy's , or it is sudden and unexpected, like Ma's. I had the shocking realization that most of what I know about them today, right now, is all I may ever know of them. Once the mind goes, so does all of its secrets...for better or for worse.

I can't imagine there is a much worse thing than losing your mind, unless you have you mind and lose your mobility, which would be equally as devastating. I think it is so great of an idea to have a blog, diary, or journal. Whatever it may be, have a place to record those memories, stories, and life changing moments. Remember The Notebook? (I know--who doesn't) Alzheimer's once again. The main character recorded the greatest love story of her life. What about some of the more intimate details of your life, they are important, but whether or not they'd be considered appropriate enough to tell maybe your parents or just expose on the blog for all to see is another thing...but wouldn't your grandkids love to hear about it? Or even your kids, when they're mature enough to understand things? I realize I'm not being too specific, but I think most of you could catch my drift.

I took another English class at Auburn on the Personal Essay and we learned the art and importance of being able to record a comprehendable short essay/story on a topic. In my opinion, the blog is an electronic personal essay itself. Hammersmith, however, would be mortified!! That little man used a typewriter and paper clips for everything...but that is neither here nor there.

In conclusion, in light of Ma's recent health problems...I challenge us all to better at recording more of the important moments in life...because you just never know if you'll be able to retell that story for the 1 millionth time to your grandkids or not someday.