05 July, 2013

{this memory} 84

This is the story behind last Monday's {this moment}.

This photo of my maternal grandmother, Amy Galloway Rorie, was taken around 1990. We see her here doing what we southerners do a lot, shelling pecans. After all, there are pies to be made. Much of what follows was written by a cousin shortly after our grandmother's death at the age of 98.

She "was a truly remarkable person in ways that best became apparent to those who took the time to know her well. As the wife of a minister called upon to move often, and with little notice, she exemplified the best qualities of loyalty and devotion to duty in what were often difficult circumstances. Through it all, in a quiet, patient, loving and graceful manner she lived a life that was an inspiration and an example.

This is not to say that Amy Rorie was not an active participant in life or in the world around her; to the contrary, her inquiring mind and her thirst for knowledge, her interest in her family, her many friends, her church, and the world in which she lived were with her to the end. When one considers her experiences as a young woman and then as a wife and mother in very different times, and the changes that occurred in her lifetime, her ability to be a part of life about her in the fullest sense even in the 90s and her 90s was a constant source of amazement to us all.

The time spent in her garden, where she daily brought about miracles, was a special joy to her [in spite of the fact that she was legally blind]. Her storytelling ability, which she shared with her family and friends, brought special joy to them as well as a better understanding of family and of different times. While it is possible that someone in this generation will be able to pass to the next generation the same facts that she left with us, it will be difficult, if not impossible, for any of us to carry out that task with the remarkable recall, sense of place and time, wit, and humor as did our beloved “Nanny”. She [is] missed."

She was also in my very first {this memory} 1.

I am filled with wonderful memories and consider myself a fortunate man.
TGB