Surreal conversation I had with my mother yesterday...

[etakyma]

So we were discussing the monument marker for my maternal grandparent's grave site. The marker has been paid for, but my parents wanted my brother and I to "sign off" on the design before it is carved. I brought up inscribing the marker with four or so measures of real music - preferably Bach, since he was Grandpa's favorite. My mom sort of thought that was too much for my grandfather and not enough for my grandmother. So I let it go - they are her parents, after all.

Well, my brother had a similar idea, but for my grandmother he thought maybe a bit of emily dickenson would be appropriate so he is researching that (something more appropriate than "i am nobody, who are you, are you nobody too?" which she quoted incessantly). But we were kind of trying to come up with what else would be appropriate for my grandmother.

Unfortunately, what we came up with is not very good at all.

My mom remembers quite clearly playing scrabble with her mother (one of the few activities I can remember being even semi-congenial where my grandmother was concerned). The problem was, my grandmother would make up words and insist that they were real. The one that sticks in my mother's mind the clearest? Was confronting Grandma with "But Mother, 'groiney' is NOT a word!"

All I could think was "But, Ma, did you ask her to use it in a sentence?"

I would have paid good money for that.

As to their monument marker, we'll see what my brother comes up with. My mom just hates the whole "decorated" aspect to monuments - she wants it clean and simple, but even she can see that simply names and dates is a little cold... So we shall see.

Comments

[etakyma.livejournal.com]

I think my mother was more against the awful little decorations than an actual inscription. She's an artist, so the Jesus carving, or the overwrought flower carving, or the elaborate overly religious whatever (did you know they can laser-carve a photograph of the deceased?), offend her sensibilities. As long as the music is *real* and able to be played (sung, read, whatever), she's okay with it. No cutesy curvy music, sunshine and puppy-dogs for my mom!

And I think there is no better epitaph for a musician and teacher, both which describe my grandfather. He taught at the Eastman School of Music from 1934 to 1974.

My grandmother would have loved the Jackson quote. I'll pass that on to my mom, she'll get a laugh!