The first part of this is what Joyce’s mother said to me in the previous century and my thoughts about it.
She told me she was expendable. After three days, three months, three years it didn’t matter. If she were gone, her family would all soon forget her. How can she say that, I wondered? How can that be? Is she not a Mother, and a Grandmother also?
As she said that I looked into her eyes, looking to see if she really meant what she had just said. I hoped for a sign that she was just seeking a comforting bit of assurance that she was indeed a worthy person. There was no clue for me there. Her eyes were for the moment cold and distant. They seemed to go right past me and into another place beyond where I could reach. I didn't know what to say.
I do not like the word expendable and yet I heard it from someone I loved.
No child should be without a Grandmother’s kindness and love.
This second part is about me.
I know that a grandmother's love is important because my grandmother never held me, never spoke to me, nor did she speak to any other person.
One kind person makes a difference in our lives, just as one evil person does. One kind soul can save another. The whole world suffers when one loving person leaves; no one misses a wicked soul.
Some opportunities are not regained. I suppose the best thing I can do is let those around me know that they make a difference in my life. I never met a person that did not have some effect on me.
And if you are reading this, you are a part of my life, thank you.
Brother Bill
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