April 3- Tornados and Grandmother Grief

Today is April 3. April 3 was a triggering date for my mother, as it was Easter morning, April 3, 1983, when she received The Dreaded Phone call — the unexpected “your mom had a heart attack in her sleep last night and has been dead for hours.” I was in the dining room eating chocolate from my Easter basket (funny story; Easter & Passover were, to me, exactly the same holiday until I was about 11 and finally saw Jesus Christ Superstar) when the phone rang and I had my first experience with sudden grief, loss, empathy.

I wasn’t particularly sad because I didn’t have much of a relationship with her, but I remember feeling just awful for my mother, whose grief was immense. Born in the early 1900s, she was part of The Greatest Generation — and their grandchildren were seen occasionally and heard from never. We went to her apartment for Passovers and Rosh Hashanah’s, but (along with her pound cake and brisket) I mostly remember being shuttled off to a tiny desk in her bedroom to play paper dolls that smelled of stale cigarette smoke. Hello, little girl, aren’t you cute, now go play ...

I’d asked The Four Questions just days before when we’d been at her apartment for both Passover and her 63rd birthday, the 31st of March. Four days later, she wouldn’t wake up.

Did any of you out there know my grandmother? And while I’m thinking of her, Evelyn Helman Speevack, did any of you know Abbie Osterman Kaelin? Because she died shortly after my 2nd birthday, and I have no memory of her either.

I’ve got a grandmother problem, made worse by the fact that my children will not remember (or only have the vaguest) memories of my own mother.

If you knew either of my grandmothers, would you tell me something about them? Favorite foods? Attitudes? Hobbies? Favorite sayings? Travel habits?

I’m leaving this blog out in the world, and I so wish my grandmothers had had blogs I could pour through.

Anyway - deep thoughts from today. XOXO

P.O. I only mention the Tornados in the title because my parents moved into this house the week of April 3, 1974, and told me repeatedly about the awful tornado that Louisville experience that week that ripped apart our neighborhood.

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