December 31, 2005.

A thought from Quaker Meeting, while sitting with my mom and Maneesh.

My grandmother is getting older. She is still very mentally able, but is more frail and having difficulty walking. I always worry before I see her that her personality may have changed. She spent her years actively engaging the world: a total "doer."

Raising four kids (and vegetables and chickens and sheep) on the "gentleman's" farm that her husband was too busy to care for. Dominating dinner conversation with lessons of what one should do and be. Going along on any adventure, be it travels to Africa wildlands or canoeing on Adirondack whitewater. And---I am reminded by a recent story about my grandfather's penchant for bushwacking with his family through impenetrable brush---always painting every unpleasant moment in a positive light.

At our family Christmas gathering, I saw her sitting alone, hunched over like a small bird amidst old-fashioned armchair stuffing, and went over to visit. I noticed her gaze was focused outwards, away from me. I started in with an inane cocktail party question, but was interrupted.

"Isn't it marvelous?!" she laughed, emphasizing the red tinged wrinkles of her lips. She was observing the younger kids, who were ignoring their parents' request to help out with dinner. She took great pleasure in their defiance. I smiled and stopped myself from saying anything further.

Earlier, I had regarded her, sitting quiet and alone, with pity. Ridiculous. She, at 90, was the indisputable matriach of this family. Whether she was talking garrulously at the head of the table or quietly in the corner, she was the same person, taking part in everything around her and choosing, as always, to enjoy herself.