a year ago today, my phone rang at the office.it’s dad, always the bearer of bad news.
say a prayer nora, he says, your grandmother has died.
i hang up, look around my office, grab my coat and walk out the door. east and south, i find mary clare. we hug and we cry and in the streets of new york, nobody even notices.
tears pouring, phones ringing, her best friend is booking our flights back to minnesota for early the next morning.
i forgot my bag at my desk. back to the office, up the elevator to the 19th floor. ding. ding. ding. ding.
i walk into my bosses’ office, close the door. thank her for a year and a half of experience and education and quit my job.
the next four days are beautiful and heartwrenching. the basilica of st. mary is filled with the people my grandmother touched, loved and inspired in her 90 years. i am awed and humbled by her grace even in death, comforted to see her present in my mother and aunts, in my own face and in the faces of my 25 cousins and siblings.
one year later, the best way to remember her is to live the way she showed us:a big life, a rich life, a fearless life.
