Fortune Cookie #1

Finally, I’ve found a purpose for all the fortune cookie messages I’ve been saving for years. This is the first in a series of fortune cookie posts. I’ll pick a message, see how it plays out in my week, and write about it. Let’s begin.

“Keep it simple. The more you say, the less people remember.”

I am my family’s historian. I scan pictures, convert old Super 8 and Camcorder tapes to digital movies, and change cassette tape recordings to digital audio files. This has yielded such amazing moments for us as we’ve been drawn back into time, hearing and seeing earlier versions of ourselves. What has really been the most touching, though, are the voices and images of my grandparents.

Grandma was the quintessential doting grandma. Everything I did was extraordinary to her. When she was particularly pleased with me, she’d smile radiantly and croon “Oooh Brookie!” When I got my driver’s license, I became her errand girl. (She was legally blind and needed a chauffeur.) I’d pick her up and we’d shop for groceries, mail letters at the post office, and conduct business at the bank. She’d treat me to a Parker’s burger and fries and we’d eat companionably at her kitchen table. Later, we’d move to the comfort of the living room, me stretching out on the couch while Grandma sat at my feet, rubbing them lightly while asking me about school, friends, and everything.

Today, we watched video from Christmas 1999. We were 20 years younger, my brothers, sisters-in-law and I, young adults just beginning to carve out places for ourselves in a larger world. We were wondering how Y2K was going to turn out, and were excited to start the new millennium. And with us was Grandma, sitting in her recliner, perfectly happy to be surrounded by her family.

I honestly don’t remember any real specifics from conversations with Grandma. What I do remember clearly is her presence. Her persistent and consistent interest in me. Her predictable response to any news I shared about my life–sheer delight. I remember her simple, pure, and constant love.

Keep it simple.

Thank you, Grandma, for keeping it simple. I will try to do the same. I’ll keep spending time with my nieces and nephews, sitting with them on the couch, ticking their backs and arms as they tell me about their lives. I’ll exclaim with delight over it all. Because, simply put, I love them. And I know for a fact that Grandma would be over the moon for them.