BIG's Meme

I have begun the next post that continues the saga that is BIG, but I put that on hold to speak of another topic. My Grandmother, who I knew as Meme, died in October. Her real name was Alphegina Snide and she was murdered. Some man entered her home while she prepared for bed and took her life. My Grandmother lived by herself in a very small country town, her closest neighbor was one of her sons who lived a half mile up the road. The area she lived in is one of those areas where this sort of thing just doesn't happen, when I was informed of the tragedy I couldn't believe it, my continual reaction was of pure astonishment. That there was no way it could be real and that it's just plain ridiculous. Since the incident, the culprit has been caught and will be facing trial very soon for her murder. I traveled 17 hours in one day to attend her wake and funeral the next day, I arrived about two hours into the evening wake and was astounded by the number of people who showed up to pay their respects to my Grandmother. Without counting each person individually I am sure there was well over a thousand people in attendance. It was great seeing my entire family again, and especially my Mom. It was the first time I had seen her since my wedding and thinking about it now, my wedding was the last time I saw my Grandmother as well.

With guilt I can say that I didn't call my Grandmother once since moving from upstate New York, I did speak with her on the phone during Holiday's but I loved her very much and am thankful for all the time I got to share with her and my Grandfather during my time growing up. Helping her with various sewing/crafting tasks and yes I just said sewing/crafting tasks, helping bring the Winter's wood into the cellar with my Uncle Claude, who has also passed away. It wasn't about the six dollar reward for stacking 2034840238409238409238409283409823 chords of wood on a given Saturday...well okay...maybe it was all about the six dollars at the time. But now, I would gladly give up that six dollars to hear her voice one time yelling to me to come get some lunch from upstairs. I loved that feisty old woman and my Grandfather too, my Grandfather spoke just as much French as he did English and I fondly remember spending the night and having to sit through reruns of Alf in french...yes you read that correctly...Alf in french. One of my favorite memories of me and my Grandmother was when I found what I believe was a Hustler magazine under my Uncle's bed and was peeking at the nekidness within when my Grandmother caught me. I thought she was going to skin me alive, as she came closer and closer I saw my life flash before my eyes as well as the plethora of naked chicks in the photos. Yet all she did was come over to me and calmly take the magazine from me and politely ask that if I ever found a magazine of this type ever again to please bring it to her so that she could dispose of it properly.

I will miss my Grandmother dearly and unfortunately hold a certain amount of hate in my heart for the man who took her life and the senseless act that he committed. I am deeply saddened for the loss all of her children, grandchildren and so on must be feeling.

Good bye meme

BIG