my small encomium of Donna Grace

the priest at Grandma's funeral was, i think we can all agree with no detriment to Grandma's memory, stretching it a bit far in calling her "compassionate." what she was, i think, more than anything, was a survivor: of losing her mother; of abuse, rejection, abandoment; of prejudice.
the priest said, as well, that she had a choice, to let her loss embitter her or take the high road of love. given some family history, some may dispute even that. so to you all, here is what i say, and here is what i have gleaned from my grandma's life:

Donna Grace: Lady Grace. one might dispute this title even, as well, but she clung to grace. it was her survival line, and it kept her alive, although it would take her to the end of her life before she found healing there. (is that too much to accept, to allow? this is what life is about, and her peaceful, beautiful death is proof positive that her grim clinging to faith was neither delusional nor wasted). the words are not coming as smoothly as i thought . . . there is so much i want to say. she knew so little of human love, so very little. she knew so much suffering. and yet she knew, despite the incredible suffering and rejection, knew the value of love, knew the value of family; understood their necessity through knowing their lack, and did the best she could to create and give what she never had.
did the best she could. can we all say the same? in some ways, maybe it wasn't good enough. but we all, at some point, we all have to make the choice how we are going to deal with the effects that other people's sins have on our lives. no, it isn't fair, it isn't just. but this strikes at the root of "it's my life, not yours; my business, not yours." NOTHING is isolated. we are not, cannot be, isolated from each other. your choice ripples through the whole of humanity, through the six degrees of separation. nothing can be "private."
she knew the ways she failed--even i, the unfavored granddaughter, gone for so long, i could see that. she knew where she had failed. but i believe, as well, that she knew this truth: we all have to deal with each other's failures. at some point, it becomes each of our choices. and we bear the failings not of Donna Grace in herself, but the failings of her father, sister, family; her fear of seeing her children suffer the same racial prejudice that she herself experienced as being the daughter of a half-breed in a small town in the 1920s. so many of our failures come from fear, is it not so?
and one can see those areas of bitterness and anger that stemmed from her determination to control her life. and as she weakened, these last few years, as various levels dropped below those sustainable for life, not once but several times--and she recovered, as she was forced to relinquish the control for which she had fought so long, we saw her anger melt into . . . peace. the peace that passes all understanding, as those walls to rival the walls of china, as they crumbled and we saw her faith, which had sustained her at bare levels for so long, begin to emanate in such a powerful way. she became gentle. this itself, i proclaim, is more proof positive that her God, our God, that faith that has been her greatest gift, that He is no chimera, no trickster, no God for weaklings or cowards. whatever other adjectives one might ascribe to Donna Grace, weak or cowardly could not be among them.
she was beautiful, and physically beautiful woman, with a flirtatious, mischievous, exuberant personality. and she loved being a woman. she loved it, i say, not in that modern feminist sense which says that a strong woman must be at war with her biology. for her, as for all early feminists, equality meant not being valued for doing a "man's" work, but for receiving equal lauds for doing a woman's work, for being a woman. she loved the vocation of womanhood in all of its glory. her choice? to be a mother not because she was enslaved to her womb, but because she loved, in her broken sometimes inefficient and maybe even ineffective way, but she desired to love, and here again is her legacy: to love and to give, even when she had so very little experience of, such a very poor example of it.
my friends, my family: every ideology, every philosophy, every religion or "non"-religion is going to bring its chains. there is no escape from it. the best we can do is choose our chains, and i for one praise God that the "chains" Lady Grace chose were those that set her free: self-sacrifice, love of beauty, love of God, for these gave me life! literally. i would not exist if she had not made these choices and passed them on. oh, she gave of her body, of her time, and gave us life. what greater legacy?! yes, we must live in this broken fallen world, we must deal with the short-comings of others, but what a poverty it would be, indeed, to say that it would be better not to be, to exist, than to make our own choices and face our own sufferings! she responded to grace; she clung to faith; she gave what she had--in some ways, more than she had.
she was--she IS, now more than ever--our Lady Grace. she is our spring of life, both physical and spiritual. through her intercession, here is the prayer i make for myself and our family, the family perpetuated sustained yes even nurtured by, generated from Donna Grace: that we, as she, may answer the plea, "Choose Life," so that we may, like she, obtain the promise: "that you may live."
Donna Grace, pray for us.