You may have noticed that in my previous blog I said, 'in my minds eye' this was the way events occurred. Now that Senator Kennedy's memoirs are being printed, we will know more. From the few words we have heard about the contents of the book, it promises clarification and insight. I can't wait to read it. The trouble with living as long as I have, is that so many heros become heros of the past.
My paternal grandmother was the first one who died, and whose leaving really affected me. I was too young to understand what dying really meant. She had one huge fault. She owned a cat named Topsy who bore kittens several times a year. We got to see the little blind babies for only a few days and then, suddenly and tragically, they were gone. She told stories about what had happened. The trolls had come out of the forrest and they had stolen them. Or, some witch had come to town and had worked some miracle with them and had turned them into horses for her fancy conveyance. We were always sad that they were gone. Many years later rumors spread that she had drowned them all in a gunny sack. Life as a grownup is not always romantic. I wish I had never heard those rumors, for I remembered her as a sweet little tiny lady, who herself looked as though she could have been magic.
Until I moved I still owned her church hat. Seeing it used to bring her spirit closer. I have forgiven her for drowning the kittens.