In 1987, sitting alone in her retirement condo, my grandmother wrote a book. She titled her book "From Friesland to Michigan" and her handwritten introduction promises to tell her life story for the benefit of her children and grandchildren. She worries that her English won't be good enough.
Her English occasionally limits her, but she wrote anyways, telling the story of her family and her childhood and, eventually, her courtship with my grandfather. Her book is small, maybe 75 pages, but when I read it again tonight it seemed a much bigger story to me.
I was given a copy of her book several years ago but I never read it. I didn't know my grandparents very well- my grandmother always seemed the model of a certain kind of prim Protestantism and my grandfather always sounded like a jerk in the stories my mother told about him (it should be noted that my mother is a notoriously bad family historian and has an unquenchable impulse toward martyrdom, so I realize I should take her accounts with a grain of salt. Or a shaker). I officially loved my grandparents and all, but I didn't know them. They were caricatures to me.
But tonight, I read. Read about a wedding planned for 1939 that was delayed by a German invasion. Read about a marriage that survived a massive flood, an economic depression, a two week boat trip to immigrate to America, and other challenges until a heart attack killed my grandfather in 1985. It occurred to me, I'm ashamed to admit, for the first time that my grandparents deeply loved each other. My grandmother, the most pious woman I've known, writes about her aching loneliness and deep anger at God. She screams and she cries and she curses God for her loss. I think I had always assumed that my grandfathers death made my grandmother sad of course, but I always thought it was somehow easier because he was old and they were married so long. I don't know if it is because I am married now but I think I am starting to understand that maybe you are never really prepared to lose the love of your life.
My grandmother is dead now and I believe that she is with my grandfather now in some way. I sometimes wonder what my grandmother would have thought about my marriage to Michael. I think that there would have been a part of her that would have been shocked at first. I'm not sure what would have shocked her more: Michael's age? His ethnicity? His previous marital status? But I think that she would have seen how much I love him and it would ultimately have seemed very familiar to her and I think she is happy for me.
