My grandmother, God rest her soul, was very afraid to die in winter. She said that it would be difficult to dig a grave in the frozen ground, and in general - no joy for the guests. She talked about her funeral as if she intended to be an active participant in the action. Grandma also claimed that people die at the same time of the year when they were born, and since she was born in February, her fears were understandable. "In the summer the happy die," said the granny, basking in the sun and sorting through the fluffy woolen loops on the knitting needles. "What a wild phrase." I thought, but didn't mind. To object to a person who is 85 years old simply does not make sense. Grandma knitted well and quickly, almost blindly. Two purl loops, three front loops, one in a cape, two purl loops, three front loops, one in a cape ... You look and a hat for a great grand daughter is ready. Meanwhile, the great-granddaughter climbed into the flower beds. The red aster is already rooted out, and the child is laughing. “I’m happy that I lived to see my great-grandchildren,” Grandma says quietly and smiles. And in the eyes of tears. Happy. My grandmother was born at the beginning of the 20th century, she survived dispossession, famine, war, occupation, devastation. She experienced the worst thing that can be - the death of an only child. Her daughter, my mother, died. Granny was sick a lot and lived alone for the last ten years. But every time we — me and my sister with the children — came, she repeated in a whisper: “But I’m still happy…” — and shed tears of pure, light tears. Then I thought: what is she saying? About what happiness? And now I understand that grandma was right and knew the main thing: you need to appreciate what you have. And then there will be no resentment and fear, evil and eternal pain in the soul, but there will be a feeling of peace and happiness and lightness of being ... When she died, it was a good warm summer, and night violets smelled until dawn. © CryptoGuru
1 comment
Thanks for sharing.