September 11, 2006
with tangerine trees and marmalade skies
9/11/06
I write to you, yet again, from deep in the heart of Texas: Cut & Shoot in Montgomery County, about an hour north of Houston. Sadly, we have come here to mourn the passing of Tessa's grandmother Lucille Tessman (known to everyone as Nonnie), an incredible character if ever there was one. Fans of "Five Wives" will remember her back-porch bon mots, but those closest to Tessa will know her as a touchstone of stability in my wife's childhood.
.jpg)
Sandy, Nonnie and baby Tessa, 1969
Nonnie's mother died of the Great Influenza Epidemic of 1918 when she was a baby. The actual story is that she died from dancing (caught the flu at the party), but losing your mother is only slightly worse than losing your father, which Nonnie did two years later. He had a heart attack in the driveway and collapsed dead on top of her brother. The locals blamed the new "iced water machine" that was put in the press shop, which led Nonnie to say "my daddy died from iced water, and my mamma died from dancin'."
Her troubles were only beginning: she was then shipped to an aunt's home, where she was routinely harassed by the other kids, and then came the "Tomato Tom-Tom" story which I told you about a few months ago (read it if you haven't yet, it's unbelievably sad). She stopped growing at 4' 11". She then married an abusive husband who died a year into the marriage while having sex with her best friend. It's a miracle she came out of any of this with her mind intact.
But then she found the love of her life, married him before the war, had two great kids and lived to be ninety. I knew our last visit with her would be our last, but at least Lucy got to meet her namesake, if only for a few minutes of wonderful lucidity.
.jpg)
Today we went to the wake, an open-casket viewing ceremony that, admittedly, was my first. I had seen many on television, but was wholly unprepared to see Nonnie's body right there in front of us. I don't know why it has taken me this long to truly get it, but there's something about the open casket that seems... culturally bizarre?
Note to Lucy and family: please, please don't do this for either me or Tessa.
On the way home, the rain began to pour in thundering loud sheets, the kind of rain that even the "fast" setting on the wipers can't handle. Lucy hasn't really seen rain since she was a newborn, and studied the ferocious window intensely. Finally, she smiled. "Bubbles!" she said, "Bubbles, bubbles, bubbles, bubbles bubbles bubbles bubbles bubbles bubblesbubbledbubbles!!!"
She knew bubbles from her Gymboree classes, but the thought of millions of naturally-occurring bubbles in nature has to be the best thing I've ever heard.
After putting her to bed, Tessa and I went through Nonnie's stuff, including her purse - one of those odd, intimate objects you never expect to end up in the hands of others. I never thought Nonnie particularly remembered who I was, since I met her in the twilight of her memory, but inside her purse was a picture of me and Tessa on a rowboat from September 2001.
It said "Tessa and Iren." She may have not fully understood my name, but she carried us around in her purse for the last half-decade of her life, and that's something. So here's to Lucille, to Nonnie, to the gifts she gave my wonderful wife, and the name she gave to my daughter. We won't remember her as that little gray person in the casket, we will remember her worrying, her laughing with Tessa, her puttering around the 20th century, a tiny hurricane blowing in from the Texas coast.
.jpg)
May she rest in peace!
Iren! Bless Nonnie's sweet heart.
Tessa -- I am so sorry to hear about Nonnie's passing. Grandmothers are very special people, aren't they? Nonnie sounds like the best.
I hate to bring my religion into your blog, but I will say a prayer for Nonnie the next time I am at Mass.
Oh, and a note about open caskets: I normally find them to be creepy, but I was amazed at how my grandmother looked at her funeral a few years ago. She suffered from Alzheimer's for years, and by the time she died, she did not look anything like herself. I don't know what magic wand the mortician used, but my Nannie looked like the Nannie I always knew, rather than like the scared elderly woman in the midst of dementia from the last couple years. It was comforting to see her as she was during her best, most happy years.
It's sad to hear of Nonnie going. She's vivid to me from 5 wives, and I know from losing our grandmother that no matter when it happens it's too soon.
I'm not a huge fan of open coffin burials, but I know why people do it - it makes the person's death concrete. Seeing someone with your own eyes when they're gone makes it less like they've gone to Dusseldorf and not bothered to come back.
She certainly had a fascinating life and sounds like a very supportive and loving grannie. Very moving entry. My sympathies.
My condolences to Tessa and to you, and a prayer for Nonnie.
Without exception, my grandmother who lived to be 95, was my dearest and best friend in the whole world, and I miss her still after almost 20 years.
I'm sure Nonnie's strength and spirit will live on and on in Tessa and Lucy.
Beautiful eulogy, Ian.
Quite a woman. Quite a tribute. Rest in peace, Nonnie.
Lovely eulogy, "Iren." Some of those tiny ladies turn out to be the toughest of them all; my MIL was like that -- 4'11" and light as a feather, survivor of a terrible childhood; lived to 88 and ceded her independence only to cancer in her last month.
Someday Lucy will treasure that photo of her with Nonnie. My sympathy to you all, especially Tessa and her family.
i'm so sorry to hear about your loss. she really sounds like she had an incredible impact on the lives she touched. and i'm very glad i have been able to carry the 5 wives images of her, as i've read your tales.
safe travels back. and condolences to tessa, as well...
These last two posts have been amazing.
And now I have all the more reason to quickly get to Five Wives that is sitting on my kitchen counter in its Netflix wrapper to see this wonderful lady Nonnie and learn from her bon mots.
My sympathy to Tessa for her loss. May Nonnie live many more years in the hearts and minds of those who loved her.
Oh Iren, what a nice tribute to an amazing lady. What a life story!
Both my Dad's parents had open caskets and as a family member even at a young age I had to stand next to the body and greet people as they walked by and said things like "don't she look good!".I found it very creepy and frightening that they thought a dead person could look "good" even though I know what the meant. I get the idea of seeing the body for finality sake and I think maybe it makes sense for the immediate family to say goodbye but I don't get the public "viewings" with everyone and their brother there to walk by and stare at a dead body. It feels like watching someone take a shower or something very private like that.
It does seem to be the culturally expected thing to do if you are of a certain generation here in the South.
Thanks for the reminder from this post and the last one to appreciate the important people in your life and enjoy them while you can. You can never state that enough.
right on.
I never realized that there were people who didn't have open caskets. I guess growing up here in NC that's the way I've always seen it done. I recall kissing my grandfather one last time as he lay in his casket. It is very common to hear people at the wake comment on how good or peaceful the deceased appears.