My father-in-law always called his wife Mary G., but over time the nickname was shortened to just G, (spelled Gee,) and that’s how everyone knew her. And we all knew that Gee meant “go.” Because she was always on the go. Touring Scotland, Ireland, England, and Wales, accompanying her husband on a business trip, shopping, having her nails done, vacationing in their condo at the beach, playing bridge, singing in the choir at church, or dining in one of her favorite restaurants. At the Bonefish Grill she was such a regular that when she walked in, her server immediately brought out an espresso martini, her favorite. At Christmas, the manager presented her with a box of Godiva truffles. She was always on the go, always having fun, and always prepared no matter the occasion. Her clothes were stylish, her hair chic, her nails perfect and her face smiling. And it was a little family chuckle that Gee and her sister Charlotte graduated from the BOOH School of Driving. (Bat-Out-Of-Hell, that is.) She could tell a good story, had a wickedly sharp sense of humor, and was recognized and admired for her positive attitude. Through the last few years, I recall her saying during many trying circumstances, “I can laugh or I can cry.” It was her protocol, therefore, to look for something to laugh, or at least smile about.
She had grown up the daughter of a railway man, and so even after the stock-market crash of 1929, her family did not face the dire situation many families suffered through. She went with her brother and sister and friends to school and with her family to church. It was there she met a handsome young man who was the new preacher’s eldest son, and in 1946, she married him in that same little church. She finished college as a married young lady, and she and her husband moved to take teaching positions in a nearby county, he teaching History, and she English. A couple of years later, when they started their family, she gave up teaching to rear the five children they would produce, and keep a home for all of them to retreat to at the end of each school day.
On Sunday, Thanksgiving weekend, 2017, she took one last drive, although she had promised herself she wouldn’t drive anymore, to see her children play a family tennis match at a local country club. We received a call that she had failed to complete an almost 90-degree turn, struck a magnolia tree, and was en route to the local ER, where we all rushed. As expected, she was in good spirits, and said she had very little pain, although she had a broken ankle and several broken ribs. A few days in the hospital, then to a rehab unit, and then, we all hoped, home, where she would stay and we would take turns staying with her until she was on her feet again. She was 91 years old.
On Tuesday afternoon some cardiac/respiratory event occurred and from that time she rarely spoke to any of us, but began to see people in the room we could not see and would talk to them instead. She was transitioning although we were not ready to say goodbye.
Our eldest daughter was a senior at university at the time, and was in her final week of exams, but she wanted to see Grandmama, whose middle name she carries. They had a special bond, as one was Big Little Gee, and the other Little Big Gee. I never understood which was which, but I didn’t need to. They understood each other.
At the end of Tuesday’s exam, this granddaughter drove back home and got to the hospital after dark, after most family had said goodnight, and then she waited until she was the last family member in the room. She approached the hospital bed where Gee was propped up on pillows, and spoke quietly, “How are you Grandmama? I wanted to tell you goodnight.” Gee looked into her eyes, but could only smile. Thinking she was probably tired and ready to go to sleep, our daughter asked, “Would you like to lay back Grandmama?” My mother-in-law motioned her closer and Kinsey leaned in. “Yes ma’am?” “Lie, Kinsey. Chickens lay. People lie.” Grandmama rested into her pillows, staring into Kinsey’s eyes. A proper, gifted English teacher to the end, these were the last words Gee would speak on this Earth, and Kinsey rushed home, delighted to share with her daddy the gem she had been given. This story was also shared at the funeral service two weeks later on December 9. It was the parting gift of a smile that became part of the celebration of this life so joyfully lived, but not the last one, as we stepped out of the sanctuary into huge, fluffy goose-down snowflakes, letting us know she had arrived safely.
The time had come for Gee to go. But when she left, she left us with joy in our hearts, with hope of seeing her again, with peace in our minds, and with the light of her smile in our lives.